I Couldn't Seem to Die
by MindAtWork
Summary: John Laurens and Alexander Hamilton balance negotiating a long denied love with a diagnosis that could change everything.
1. Chapter 1

**This, like most of my stories is dedicated to my dear Paggers. Which is probably kind of awful of me since this one is Big Sad. Regardless, thank you so much for reading and tasting a different universe. I'm pretty proud of banging this 30,000 word story out in 19 days. Reviews are my inspiration.**

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Alex was over along with Lafayette and Hercules, one of our movie nights. My turn to host. Lafayette and Hercules sat in the middle of my couch. They were so cute together, it felt like they'd been together forever, although, I guess since our junior year of college was kind of forever now that our twenties were fading. It was endearing to watch Laf feeding popcorn to his guy, or the way Hercules would distract himself from dull moments in the movie by winding his beloved's coily hair around his fingers. There on the other side of the couch was my best friend, phone in hand, unable to sit and relax and focus on just one thing at a time. Alex was always moving, doing something, doing too much, giving us all relentless ammunition to tease him about working himself to an early grave. 'Bring it,' he'd always say without humour, pouring another late night cup of coffee.

Tonight Alex had a cough that wouldn't let him be, even after I'd given him tea, water, spoonful of honey like my mom had always done for me as a kid, anything to try and calm it. It wouldn't give up. Once the movie was over Lafayette and Hercules got up and stretched, finding their shoes.

"Thanks for having us." Hercules kissed me on the cheek.

"Of course, same time next week at your place?" I asked.

"Yes, of course, and keep the wine, there isn't much left." Lafayette hugged me goodbye.

"But I'm taking the pizza." Hercules winked and took the half full box, earning an eye roll from Lafayette.

I shut the door behind them and saw Alexander pulling on his Vans, looking even more tired than usual.

"You can always stay, you know that." I tucked hair behind his ear and felt his forehead with the back of my hand, surprised that he didn't feel warm.

"I'm fine. I've tried to put my crashing on your couch days behind me." He smirked and I swallowed against the butterflies in my stomach, in my constant war against making shit weird with my best friend.

"Okay, of course, yeah, just… offer's out there. You just seem out of it."

"I'm okay, really." He rubbed his throat thoughtfully and stood up.

"Alright, yeah, um, I'll see you this weekend at the show, right?" I watched his lips as I talked, the way they twitched as he plotted his reply.

"Of course, see you then," he hugged me, lingering just an extra moment, "love you, Jackie."

I squeezed him tight, his hugs were the best, comforting and familiar, "love you, too, 'Lex."

I locked the door behind him and sighed. This was just one of the seasons of weirdness. I'd had a few of them knowing Alex for almost a decade, my entire adult life, usually after a break up, where I would get the stupid idea that it just made sense for us to be together. I'd been single for almost a year, save for a few Grindr hookups, Tinder dates, accidentally going home with guys at the bar, but it'd been a long year, a long year that led my mind to Alex. It was a stupid idea though, we'd made out one drunken night during college, I wasn't sure he'd even remember it, but I did, I remembered the way the liquor tasted on him, I remembered the rough drunken clatter of our teeth, I remembered the way it felt when I put my hands in his hair. This was a stupid line of thinking, though, I'd tried the whole dating friends thing before and it never worked out, someone always got hurt, friendships were damaged irreparably. Knowing what I knew, I tried to shake it off and go to bed.

I was never good at shaking off the dreams, though. The ones with him on top of me, the ones of how his mouth would taste, especially not the ones where he'd pull my hair. The latter one was what woke me up tonight, panting, tangled in the sheets, painfully hard. I slowed my breathing and got myself off, feeling guilty for the dream images of him ghosting through my mind as I did. There wouldn't be any going back to sleep after getting this keyed up so I went out to the kitchen and poured myself a bowl of captain crunch and ate it while still trying to cleanse my mind of the profane images of my best friend.

The next few days passed uneventfully. I was working steadily on a commission, still unable to believe that I had made it, well made it enough to actually say that I was a working artist, that I had reached a point where I had the ability to turn the art I created into rent money and food. I'd worked so hard. On the day of our old college friend Angelica's concert I was working in the studio space that I shared with Hercules. He was on the cusp of his fashion line being enough to pay the bills, but was still doing alterations as a safety net.

Alex texted me, I set down my paintbrush and checked my phone.

**Not up for tonight, give Angie my best. Sorry to be a putz. **

I frowned and texted him back.

**You're not a putz. Did it get worse?**

His response came back quickly.

**Nah. Just… not better.**

I peeked my head into the sewing room in our studio where Hercules was working on restructuring a designer wedding dress that - surprise - had an owner who hadn't managed to lose fifty pounds in two months for her wedding.

"'Sup?" Hercules asked around the pins in his mouth.

"Alex just texted me, he's still sick. He isn't coming tonight."

Hercules frowned and pulled the pins out of his mouth, "is he okay?"

"I guess so? I don't know, I'm gonna go over there tonight. Sorry to bail."

"I get it, go get your man."

I rolled my eyes knowing that while Lafayette "_just couldn't see it" _between me and Alex, Hercules was our greatest supporter. I was surprised that he didn't have Tina Belcher style friend fanfiction written about us.

Alex stayed on my mind while I wrapped up my paints to keep them wet and then went to the grocery store to get him soup, lozenges, anything else he might need. After I was done at the store I went to his apartment and knocked on the door.

"Of course you're here." He smiled at me, still in his work clothes - plain button down, tie loosened, slacks, grey socks.

"Of course I'm here." I repeated.

"Well, come in. I know there's no changing your mind."

He went to his bedroom to change and I put the items I'd purchased away for later. When Alex returned he was wearing a faded t-shirt from our college days… that I think had been mine at some point and sweatpants, clutching his striped comforter, letting the blanket drag behind him.

"I want to watch movies and pass out. You down?"

"Duh," I agreed, settling on the couch with him, "brought you dinner."

"Bless you," he snuggled into the couch and leaned his head on my shoulder.

Alex still had that cough. We made it through all of O Brother, Where Art Thou without the cough letting up, he just seemed more and more annoyed by it. Eating soup hadn't helped. We were on our second movie of the night and he'd drooped into my lap, head resting on my thigh to watch the movie. I was running my fingers through his hair, trying to soothe him, trying to focus on the film. I felt him watching me though and looked down at him. He grinned like he'd been caught, and focused again on the film. He was so sly, that was part of what I found so attractive, the cat and mouse games he could play, the stories he could tell with just the quirk of an eyebrow. I realized how much I wanted to kiss him and tamped down the thought, the dream from the other night, all of it.

He fell asleep pretty quick afterwards, and I let myself sleep, too. In the morning when we woke up he cleared his throat, rasping a 'good morning' to me. I handed him a glass of water and he drank it, tugging on his ear.

"You gotta paint today?" He asked, still a little raspy.

"Nah, I can do it later. How do you feel?"

"Not super, but I'll live." He tucked his tangled hair up into a bun.

"I think you should go to the doctor."

"I'm okay, really." He cleared his throat a few times.

"Alex, it's been days, you can barely talk. Come on, I'll take you."

"John, no, that's not necessary, it's probably allergies."

"You've never had allergies before." I reminded him.

"Fine, sure, okay." He relented, "will it shut you up?"

"It'll help," I smirked.

"Good, Jesus, the people who say I talk a lot never met you."

We stopped by my apartment so I could change and then went on to his doctor's, me keeping a close eye on him so that he wouldn't bolt like a wet cat.

"Feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm just really out of it." He leaned his head on my shoulder until his name was called.

"Want me to come with?"

He nodded, looking about five years old. We followed the nurse practitioner through the hallway of the office and she took Alex's weight, he'd lost almost fifteen pounds since his traveler's physical five months earlier when he got malaria and typhoid shots to go to Thailand for a story he'd been following. I knew he looked too skinny. She asked him a few questions about his health and then left, assuring us that the doctor would be in soon. Alex was nervous, legs swinging while he answered emails on his phone.

"I'm sure you're fine." I promised.

"I know, I just feel guilty missing work, I'm about to break a big story. I shouldn't be here right now."

"Trust me, if anyone deserves to miss a day or two, it's you."

He smiled at me and those damned butterflies came back as the doctor knocked politely and entered.

"Okay, Alexander, so it looks like you've got a cough, pretty persistent, couple weeks, huh?"

Alex nodded.

"Trouble swallowing?"

"Sometimes." Alex confirmed.

The doctor put on rubber gloves from a dispenser on the wall and got out a pen light.

"Open up." He instructed.

Alex complied and the doctor looked at the back of his throat.

"Hmm… I don't see anything, but I want to run a strep test, okay?"

Alex rolled his eyes, "cool."

The doctor ripped open a paper package with two long handled Q Tips inside and stuffed them down Alex's throat. He gagged and hacked with a shudder.

"Alright, let me go ahead and get these processing, I'll be right back."

We nodded to the doctor.

"This is bullshit. I don't have strep." Alex wiped his nose, which had started to run after the doctor wedged cotton into his gullet.

"Maybe he just wanted to check your deep throat skills, of which you apparently have none."

"Shut up," he punched me on the shoulder lightly.

The doctor came back after about ten minutes, "well, no strep. That's a good sign."

He started to press on the glands under Alex's jaw, "does that hurt?"

Alex swallowed hard, it looked like far too much effort, "nope."

"Any ear pain?"

I thought about him tugging at his earlobes and he answered honestly, "some, yeah."

The doctor moved his hands down Alex's neck and Alex winced so hard that tears sprung to his eyes.

"That hurt pretty bad?"

Alex nodded, blinking quickly, his hand reaching across the paper covering the table. I gave him mine to squeeze, just glad to be able to bring him some comfort. That's why I'd come along.

"Hmm," the doctor leaned back against the counter and got out a prescription pad, "I think it's best to go get some more tests done. I'm writing you a referral."

"What kind of tests?"

"I think there may be something to do with your thyroid, like I said, I'm just a GP so I can't say for sure. Get you down to Ear, Nose and Throat, they'll be able to give you some more answers. I wouldn't worry too much in the meantime."

Alex nodded and protectively rubbed his throat.

We took the referral and went to go get lunch at the pho spot by his office.

Alex slid into the booth beside me and leaned his head on my shoulder. I took his hand, caught between comforting my best friend and declaring my undying love for him. We ordered our usuals and he turned his head into my neck, breath blowing against the tender skin there.

"You tired, 'Lex?" I asked him.

He nodded, talking seemed to take too much effort for him, that was the part that worried me most of all. He never just didn't talk, always had something - usually too much - to say in any conversation about any topic.

"I need to schedule that referral." He pulled out his phone and the piece of paper from the doctor and was able to get scheduled before the end of the week.

Once he hung up the phone he started googling his symptoms.

"Hey, come on, stop it, that never does any good." I reached for his phone.

"No, it's fine, I'm pretty medically savvy. It's not like I'm going to believe Web MD when it tells me I have flesh eating fungus from the Congo."

He continued to add symptoms. The website loaded and told him to get screened for thyroid cancer.

"That can't be right." I tried to sound convincing.

"Or it can." He shut me down and slurped at his soup, it seemed to bring him some comfort.

"Alex, I'm sure you're fine, it's probably just an infection or something."

"Or it's not."

"Or it's nothing." I said resolutely, I'd never win a battle of wills against him, I never had.

We ate our soup quietly, the worst on both of our minds.

"Do you want me to come over tonight?" I offered when our check came.

"No, it's fine, you've already done so much. I'm okay."

"Alright, you're sure?"

"I'm a grown man, I can take care of myself. You're too good for me. I've got this. Thank you… for everything, John. I don't know what I'd do without you." His pride got the better of him, I knew he was afraid.

"Alright… if you're sure."

"I'm sure… I am…" I walked with him back to his office where we split off.

What if the website was right? He couldn't have cancer, that was like a middle aged thing, that wasn't something people in their twenties got, and Alex was healthy. He didn't work out and probably drank too much alcohol, definitely drank too much coffee, but still, he was healthy. I walked back to my studio and found Hercules at work on the same wedding dress, now significantly bigger.

"How was the doctor?"

"He got a referral to get some scans or tests or something done."

"That doesn't sound good." Hercules snipped a thread.

"I know… but he's going to be fine."

"Yeah, definitely. Why wouldn't he?"

"He's convinced himself it's cancer."

Hercules let out a heavy breath, "shit… could it be?"

I perched on his drafting table and picked at my jeans, "I don't know… I mean… I don't think so… that doesn't sound right, does it? Alex… it's not… he couldn't."

"All I know is that you should tell him how you feel."

"What?" I scoffed.

"Look, worst case scenario, it's something bad, he's gonna need you, you're gonna want to be there for him, clear out the sexual tension now. Best case scenario, he's fine and you're still together. Win-win."

"No… we have other stuff to focus on."

Herc shrugged and got back to work. I tried to finish my commission and got pretty close before deciding to call it a day.

"See you tomorrow, Herc!"

"Take it easy, buddy."

I'd just poured a bowl of cereal when Alex called.

"Sup?" I asked around a mouthful.

"Are you busy?" Alex sounded heavy, deep in thought.

"Not really," I chewed shamelessly in his ear.

"Can… you come over?" He breathed a little, nervous laugh at my chomping into the phone, but I could hear that there was something on his mind.

"Yeah, I'll be right there."

I hung up the phone and shoveled a few more bites of cereal into my mouth before dumping it in the sink.

Times like this made me especially glad that we lived just a few minutes walk from one another. I pulled on a sweatshirt and locked up behind me. It was starting to get chilly, leaves changing colours. I didn't mind the cold. It was better than the humidity back home, God, anything was better than that. After just a few taps on the door Alex opened it. He was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, hair a little haphazard, cozy at home.

"Hi," I hugged him.

"Hi," he hugged me back and I sensed the mania.

"What's up?"

"Sit, sit," he motioned to the sofa.

I took his instruction and sat down, "okay… what is it?"

He paced back and forth, "Look… if I'm gonna die-"

I interrupted him, "-which you won't, you're fine,"

"Sure, okay, yeah, but-" he coughed so hard he had to brace himself on the arm of the couch, "-but for argument's sake, if I'm not, I want to get this off my chest, because, fuck it, it's worth the gamble."

My eyebrows came together as I watched him pace, "okay?"

He let out a big sigh, "John… I'm… in love with you, okay? I am totally and completely in love with you and I have been for a really long time, but I didn't want to mess things up between us, or like, the group, but I don't want to be sick and not have had a chance to tell you the truth, and if it's weird or you think I'm weird that's fine… we can… we can pretend it never happened, but I just… had to tell you."

I blinked tears away, shocked by the confession, wouldn't have expected it in a million years, "really? Did Herc put you up to this?"

"What? No! No," he knelt on the ground in front of me and took my hands, clearing his throat, "you are my best friend. There's no one else in the world who gets me like you do. I've always tried to pretend that I don't love you, but that sucks and I'm tired of it and if I die I need you to know this."

I felt a fat, hot tear roll down my cheek and burst out in laughter, "you're not going to die, though, dummy."

He wiped my tears, "so… is that a, 'oh, Alex, I requite your admission of love' or not so much?"

I touched his cheek, the stubble around his goatee just starting to haze his skin, "yeah, that. Definitely that."

"Does that mean I can kiss you?"

I nodded, not trusting myself not to cry at the relief of hearing him say it out loud.

He put the side of his finger under my chin and pulled me close, our lips just touching, his were so warm, full and soft. I sighed into him and he pulled back.

"I've wanted to do that a really long time." He confessed.

"Me too." I agreed.

Our moment was interrupted by a coughing fit from Alex.

"I'm not contagious, doctor said."

"I wouldn't care if you were."

"Wanna go watch a movie in my bed? I'm beat." It seemed like nothing really changed, we were still the best friends we'd always been, but I finally got to kiss him.

"I'm down."

We went to his bedroom and he turned down the blankets, crawling in bed. I climbed in next to him, this was normal, something we'd done hundreds of times in college and beyond. He propped himself up on the pillows, already knowing that he was in for a night of coughing. I leaned against his chest, still something we'd done time and time again. It was hard not to laugh at myself, at how natural this came, how obvious it was. I couldn't believe that we'd both denied ourselves of it for so long.

Alex clicked through movie selections and settled on Swiss Army Man, one we both liked and could watch over and over again. He pet my hair and coughed through the film.

"How do you feel?" I asked him midway through.

"I'm fine," he managed a smile, but his eyes looked gray.

"I don't believe you." I looked up at him.

"Honestly? I feel like shit. I'm just glad to be with you. Really with you… finally with you."

"Me too. I just wish it didn't take you feeling this poor."

"They're gonna find something, John." He took my hand and ran his thumb over my palm.

"Alex, come on, boo, that's not a guarantee."

He rubbed his throat with his free hand, "I just know it."

"Even if they do, I'll be right here."

His eyes faded away to the eighteen year old _everyone I know is dead or left me _look that they'd held when I met him, "you'll stay with me?"

"Through thick and thin. You're my best friend… and whatever this is."

"You'll stay with me tonight?"

"And every night if that's what it takes." I promised picking up the hand that held mine and kissing it tenderly.

"I'm scared, Jack." He whispered.

I nodded, I didn't like seeing him like this, he was always so tough, so fearless, "I'm a little bit scared, too. Can I hold you?"

"Please." He slid down the pillows and tucked himself into my chest.

We'd held each other like this after breakups, me after fights with my dad, him with bad grades, but this time I didn't hold back the kisses I pressed in his hair. I didn't hold back breathing him in and getting high off him. I didn't hold back loving him.

"I want to kiss you again," I whispered to him after a long while of me just holding him to me.

He looked up at me and I saw the tears on his face, realized the dampness of my shirt.

"Oh, honey," I wiped the tears away, "you're gonna be just fine."

"Just kiss me. I want to forget I'm scared."

I did as he asked, never wanting to be the thing that let him down. This kiss was soft and deep, tender and explorative. We took our time feeling each other out. He pulled away to cover his mouth and cough.

"You're really good at that." I told him.

"Coughing?"

I rolled my eyes, "kissing."

"Practice."

"Oh, sure," I rolled my eyes.

We kissed like that until we fell asleep, him in the crook of my arm, my chin on his forehead.

The next day we both made ourselves go to work with the promise that I'd come over again afterwards. I stopped by my own apartment to change into fresh clothes and take a shower. In the shower I got myself off, letting out the pent up tension of sleeping beside Alex all night, waking up with him all groggy and sexy. Even not feeling well he was still incredible.


	2. Chapter 2

The grin didn't leave my face the entire walk to work. I stopped to get bagels for Hercules and myself just because I couldn't help but be in a good mood.

"Lucy! I'm home!" I threw open the garage door and stepped inside our studio.

Hercules was tucked back in the sewing room, but waved at me through the panes of glass that acted as walls, mostly to keep my paint off his fabrics and to keep his smooth jazz off my real music.

"What is this?" He took the paper bags off me and found his blueberry bagel.

"Breakfast for my favourite guy." I elbowed him.

"Fuck is your face right now?" He stared at me, setting his food down and gripping me by the biceps, "oh shit. Oh shit! Oh shit, Jackie! Did it happen?"

I licked my teeth and bit my lip trying anything to hold back my grin, noticing how badly my cheeks hurt, "kind of."

"Yes!" He boomed, sound echoing off the walls.

"It's lowkey though."

"Did you fuck?" He perched on a stool and took a bite.

"Well… no, god, Herc, it's not like we're just horny teenagers,"

He groaned, "get to the good stuff! How'd you finally nut up and tell him?"

I bit my lip, "he… actually, uh, told me."

Herc gasped, setting his bagel down, "shut the fuck up."

"No, dude, I'm straight up telling the truth."

"Bro... tell me literally everything."

I pulled at my hoodie string, "okay, so he called me last night and asked me to come over-"

"-good start,"

"Right, yeah, anyways so he has me come over and like he's super cagey and weird and I thought that it was just because he's all paranoid that there's something wrong with him, but he like got down in front of me and-"

"Yes!" he pushed his beanie down toward his eyes.

"No! Jesus Christ, Herc, no, he… got down in front of me and… told me... he loves me."

"And then?"

I felt myself blush, "and then we kissed."

"That's it?"

"Well, we watched a movie in his bed."

"Naked?"

"No! We just, he wasn't feeling good so we cuddled and watched a movie and kissed some more and then fell asleep."

"So are you guys a thing?"

"It… doesn't actually feel that different. We've always been best friends, but now I think it's like we're best friends who make out."

"Do you want to do more than just make out?"

"Of course! You know better than anyone that I do."

"I mean, you should, he's packing."

"I know... Wait, how do you know?"

"Semester that he and Laf were dorm mates… I was bad at knocking and it was his room, so he's allowed to change in it, but, yo, get you some of that. How do you know he's packing?"

I rolled my eyes, "_we _shared a room for three years. We probably know everything about each other."

"Fair, fair, yeah, I'll give you that."

"Herc. I love that man. I do," I looked down at my bagel, "I don't know what I'm gonna do if there is something wrong with him."

"Cross that bridge when you get to it, buddy. It sucks and it's terrifying. Remember me being a basket case before Laf's immigration hearing?"

"You were convinced he was gonna get deported."

"And see, that turned out just fine. Alex is gonna be fine, too."

"Hope so." I munched at my bagel.

That night I convinced Alex to go out to dinner with me. Just to get him out of the house, away from his stressing for a little while. We went to the Thai place around the corner and sat on the same side of the booth, talking about our days. It felt natural, his head on my shoulder, my arm around his back, his hand on my thigh. Felt like we'd always done this. We'd pretty much always been affectionate with each other, only now I stole kisses between his coughing while we waiting for our dinner to arrive.

He was cute when he slurped noodles, I kissed his temple, wanting to squeeze him too tight and profess my love for him to the whole restaurant.

"Want some curry?" I offered.

"Sure, I'll have a bite. Want some pad thai?"

I nodded and we exchanged bites, feeding each other. He wheezed after trying mine, coughing again into his elbow.

"Spice got me." He admitted.

"It's only the medium, you usually go for hot, right?"

"Yeah… yeah… it's just… with my throat." Alex sipped his water.

"Oh, right, gotcha, sorry, honey."

"It's okay. I'm sure I'm okay."

I paid for our meal and walked him home, we walked hand in hand, strolling at a leisurely pace, admiring the leaves changing colour, enjoying one another.

"You want me to stay with you?" I offered.

Alex nodded and pulled me close, stopping our walk to swivel me around to face him, he kissed me, right in the middle of the street. I kissed him back, pulling him in by the small of his back, holding him tightly.

"That's a yes?" I giggled when he finally pulled back.

"Yeah… and you can come with me tomorrow, right?"

"I'll be there. You know I'll be there, Alex."

He nodded and we resumed our walk. I rubbed his back while he found his keys and unlocked the door.

"Can we go to bed?" He asked, looking drained.

"Yeah, honey." I squeezed his shoulder.

I misunderstood originally and realized this only after I saw the glint in his eye. He led us down the hall and starting pulling at his clothes, hurrying to unbutton his dress shirt, stepping out of his loafers, letting down his hair. I bit my lip, realizing what he was meaning and began following suit in undressing myself. He sat on the edge of the bed and took his socks off, now just in his boxers. I flung my clothing over the back of the chair pushed away from his desk in the corner and sat behind him on the bed to admire him, the sleek curves of his body. It was finally happening and I could hardly contain myself, kissing his shoulder and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I have waited so long for this moment." I confessed in a whisper in his ear.

"Me too," he chuckled breathlessly, turning to face me.

"It's weird, feeling like we've been together for a million years,"

"Without ever doing this," he added.

"Exactly."

"Then let's stop wasting time."

He straddled my hips and bent down to kiss me, hips grinding against my own. I kissed him, slowly and deeply, tasting him, our tongues working together, savouring the little sounds he made while I kissed him. The slow kisses developed and evolved into frantic ones and I flipped us gently, wanting dominance, wanting to be on top of him. I pulled back and started to work myself over the planes of his body, kissing and nipping at his chest, breaking away only for him to sit up and cough, then finally getting to the waistband of his boxers which I tugged off his body, releasing his cock to spring free. He was beautiful, he was perfect, he was everything.

"You want me, honey?" I asked quietly, seeking permission to take things further.

"Yes, John, please, finally, please."

I grinned at making him plead and ducked down to take him in my mouth. He was sweet, briney, a cocktail so unique to him, so perfect. I teased the tip of his cock, followed the veins down the shaft with the tip of my tongue and then took him whole in my mouth. He moaned softly, hands reaching down to cup my cheeks, I leaned into his touch while working his shaft into my mouth. Just big enough, thick, so hard it had to hurt him.

"John," he whined when I reached the base.

I moaned around his girth, delighted that this was finally happening, that I was finally with him. Just like it was meant to be. I reached a hand up, feeling his flank, reaching and reaching until I found the soft bud of his nipple which I rolled between my fingers. This motion arched Alex's back with the intensity of an exorcism and he gasped something between my name and God's. I tried to keep my mouth soft despite the grin he caused.

"Come here, come up here." He begged, writhing underneath me.

I disobeyed his wishes and continued to lap at him, sucking loudly, moaning from deep in the back of my throat, enjoying how crazy it made him. He whimpered as I continued to play with his nipples, the flesh tightening and puckering into a decent little knob. It was glorious, the realization of so many dreams, so many nights waking up hard and panting, better than I ever expected. His knees squeezed my shoulders and I worried that he might be the next case of spontaneous human combustion. All of his muscles tightened underneath me and he gasped again, disturbed only by the coughs he let out between keening moans. I forged on, not letting up, wanting to feel him come, wanting to taste it, wanting to actualize those sleepless nights' fantasies that until very recently I'd felt guilty for. I ramped up my intensity, pressing his tip deeper into my throat, nosing the base, the scent that was so distinctly him, like the pure essence of the scent I'd always associated with him.

"Jack, I'm gonna…" He trailed off and I nodded to him in approval and took everything his spurting cock had to offer.

"John, John!" He whined as he came before his moans turned darker, into hissed expletives.

I popped off him and wiped my mouth clean, smirking unabashedly at him. He looked spent and grinned at me.

"How'd you like that?" I asked him.

"I don't know why we waited this long if that's how it's gonna be, Jesus Christ, John. Your skill is undeniable."

"I know." I winked at him.

"Now come here." He pulled me down, still on top of him and kissed me again.

We broke the kiss and he giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"You taste like me. It's pretty goddamn hot."

"You have another one in you?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"What do you mean?"

I was surprised that he didn't take my meaning so I leaned up and sat back on my heels, letting my heavy, hard cock be on full display as it constrained my boxer briefs.

"Oh, shit," his mouth hung open.

I nodded and slowly worked my underwear off, giving him a show. He grunted and gasped, arms behind his head.

"Looking for some of this?" I asked, throwing my underwear to the floor, making sure to let my abs and arms have their moment in the sun.

"Ideally all of it." He laughed and in that moment I learned that I thought that that particular laugh was the most beautiful sound in the world.

"Got any lube?"

He shook his head, "nope."

"Never took you for a masochist," I chuckled.

"No, I'm just lazy. It'll be fine."

I shrugged and spat in my hand, coating my fingers in saliva and starting the slow press of opening him up to me. He bit his lip and let out a long moan. By the third finger I felt him relax and slicked my cock in my own spit before lining up to him.

"Sorry, did you… want to use a condom? We can."

He shook his head, "you're you, I'm me, I trust us. Besides, you're the last guy, the only guy I ever want in my bed again."

"Alright, good." I grinned and pecked his lips before pressing into him.

The begging whine that escaped his lips echoed as a roar around his bedroom and I pressed in deeper.

"John, you're so big."

I waggled my eyebrows at him suggestively, still pressing into him, "I know."

I was a good lay, that much I was confident in, that much I had proven, I was confident in bed, but with Alex, it was so much different, it was so perfect between us. Once I was all the way inside he started to move with me, against me, a perfectly orchestrated dance that neither of us took time to learn, knowing it instinctively, preparing for each movement from the other person.

"I love you." He whispered against my neck.

"I love you so much, 'Lex."

"I'm glad I finally said something."

"Me too. God you feel so good, honey."

He whimpered and tightened his grip on my biceps and I knew that in the last stroke I'd struck paydirt and found his prostate. I moved my hips, swaying them side to side like I was finding the beat to a song that only he and I could hear.

"John, don't stop. Need you."

His tight muscles flexed around my shaft and I moaned, trying to keep still, to let him find that golden spot, to have his moment with it, but as he gripped my cock from the inside I lost my composure and hitched his legs back toward his body, bracing my hands on his knees and thrusting hard into him. He somehow seemed to like this even more, eyes rolling back, mouth hanging open.

"Alexander, you are so perfect, love how you feel. Been dreaming about this."

He walked the toes on his right foot up my chest and locked his ankle over my shoulder, letting me even deeper.

"John, I could barely even stand to look at you, wanted you so badly, just like this."

I sat up, pulling him down the bed and closer to my by his hips, noting how unsettlingly light he felt as I maneuvered him, and braced myself on his knees to go even deeper, even harder. My curls brushed over my naked back as I threw my head back in pleasure, a primal sound emanating from me as I kept thrusting, chasing down his pleasure, barely thinking about my own. I let his knee go and took his throbbing cock in hand, stroking it at first in time with my own thrusts, but then opposing the rhythm. This took him apart. A sob tore out of him as I tugged his cock, overloading his senses.

"Wanna make you feel good, Alex."

"Feel… so… good." His legs writhing.

"I want to do this to you every single day."

"Make up for lost time," he agreed.

With another deep thrust he whimpered and pulled me down to his face by my hair with a satisfyingly painful tug and kissed me hard and desperate, tasting my mouth, hands covering my back, gripping my shoulder blades like rock climbing hand holds. His muscles contracted around me as he came for the second time this evening in quick succession and I rolled my hips feeling so close to my own exploding euphoria. His come was sticky between our bodies and the thought of being coated in his pleasure materialized sent me over the edge. I came with fervor, holding Alex tightly against me and dropped my head into the crevice of his neck and panting. The waves didn't subside, my buried cock still twitching within him, every last drop leaking out from my tip. I groaned at the satisfaction of it and slipped out of him, grabbing tissues from the bedside table to clean myself off.

"That was incredible." I sighed, flopping into bed next to him.

"You were incredible." He added contentedly, finding his place against my side.

"I can't believe we wasted so much time. I'm not a cry in bed kind of guy, but you almost got me, I'm just so fucking happy to finally be yours."

"So am I, baby. It's been a long time coming." He rolled to face me and played with my hair.

"Long, long time."

"So… how do we do this? Because on the one hand, I've known you forever and you're my best friend, but on the other hand, we're like brand new to the whole… sleeping together thing. Do you want… do we… go on dates and then you kiss me goodnight? Do we just say fuck it and move in together? Like, I don't know how to be in love with my best friend and still subscribe to the conventions of modern dating."

"I guess… we consider the first decade or whatever of knowing each other as like… mormon dating and we finally did something about it? I know… seriously everything about you, and you know everything about me, so let's just not sweat the small stuff, yeah?"

"I like it." He rubbed his throat subconsciously, but for the rest of the night we didn't think about anything else.

The morning, on the other hand was a different story. From the moment that we woke up, still naked and in each others' arms he was a nervous wreck, hand wringing, wouldn't eat, the whole nine yards.

"Honey, it's okay. Really, it's alright." I kissed his cheek as I hailed us a cab.

He nodded, trying to be strong like he always was. We were quiet on the ride, holding hands, me trying to telepathically calm him down. I helped him find the right place for the appointment and he got checked in.

"Go me for having a job with real health insurance, right?" He chuckled without humour.

"More than I can say." I smiled back.

He leaned his head on my shoulder and we waited until he was called back. I went with him and we went through the standard weight and vitals with the nurse practitioner, but the doctor came quickly enough.

"Alexander, I'm Dr. Hosack, got a referral here that you're having some throat problems, yeah?"

"Yes." He confirmed solemnly.

The doctor turned to me, "hi. Dr. Hosack."

"Hi, I'm John… Alex's…" I wasn't sure what title to give myself.

Always quick with the right thing to say, Alex piped up, "he's my partner."

"Glad you could be here, John. Alright, Mr. Hamilton, let's just get you checked out." He snapped on gloves and pressed on Alex's throat, I could see the pain registering on Alex's face.

"That hurt?"

"Yeah," Alex confirmed.

"Hmm," he got out his pen light and told Alex to open his mouth and he looked down his throat.

"What do you think?" I asked.

"Well… I want to get him into a cat scan, I see some abnormality with the thyroid. I'm not worried just yet, but let's see if we can't get a picture to clear things up, I'm gonna send you downstairs to radiology, okay?"

Alex blinked a few times, "...kay."

"Nothing to worry about yet. I'll be right back."

As soon as Dr. Hosack left the room I sprang from my chair to hold Alex, the paper on the table crinkling under him as he shifted to hold me back.

"It's okay, honey, this is just gonna give us answers. I love you, it's okay." I brushed the shorter pieces of hair that hung loose from his ponytail, framing his face back behind his ears.

When he looked at me his eyes swam, I put my hands on his cheeks, ready to swipe away any tears that fell, but he refused to let any out.

"Gonna be okay." I whispered, kissing his forehead.

He nodded and we broke apart at the sound of the door opening, "alright, they're getting ready for you on the third floor. Go ahead and get checked out and then we'll meet back up here, okay?"

Alex just nodded, not having words.

"Thank you, doctor. We'll see you soon."

Alex swayed as we waited for the elevator, "you okay?" I asked him.

He nodded, but his sharp, dark eyes betrayed his calm disposition.

We sat waiting for him to be called back into the scan and I spent time memorizing his hands. Observing the little hairs on his knuckles, the dry, bitten cuticles, all the calloused, rough places where he'd barraged the skin with pens and keys. Once he was called back I waited alone in the waiting room and called Hercules.

"What'd you figure out?" He answered quickly, knowing what today was.

"Um…" I chewed at the side of my thumb, "well… he's getting a cat scan right now… I think… I don't think it's good, Herc. I… I don't think it's good."

"Like 'rally the troops' not good?"

"Not yet… I'll let you know when we figure out anything."

"You doing okay?"

"I'm starting to get a little freaked out."

"I know. How concerned are you? Like me before Laf's hearing where he had all his paperwork and witnesses and work history and transcripts and it was obviously going to be fine, I'm just a dumbshit that gets off on having high cortisol levels… Or… or is it real?"

"I don't know… but I saw something in the doctor's face. I don't think it's good."

Please keep me posted."

"Always."

I hung up and sat in the waiting room, feeling tiny, feeling helpless. It was almost an hour before he was back. He looked defeated.

"Back up to the doctor?" I asked him.

He just nodded and took my hand.

"They tell you anything?"

"No."

"Okay."

In the elevator I wrapped my arm around him, pulling him to my side. We were taken back into the same exam room and waited for at least three eternities. I tried to keep him talking, if there was anything I knew about Alex it was that talking always made him feel better, gave him a sense of control over even the worst situation. He had little to say and I knew that hearing his voice so scratchy and altered bothered him even more, so I just sat on the table right beside him and let him rest against me.

Dr. Hosack knocked politely and came in the room and greeted us, the scans on dark grey plastic warbled every time he moved them. He hung them on the lightbox and turned it on, illuminating an internal image of Alex's throat. I wasn't sure what I was looking at.

"Alright, gentlemen. Here's what we know. Alexander, you do have a mass right here on your thyroid," he circled a blip on the scan with the back of his pen.

My heart sank, cold waves rolled in my belly. There was something. It stared at us from the lightbox, plain as day, ready to change our lives.

"Is it…" Alex trailed off.

"Malignant? There's no way to know until we get in there."

"How bad is it?" I asked.

"It's not the biggest mass I've ever seen, but it's a pretty decent size. Here, you'll be able to see better in this one."

He switched the scans for one of Alex's profile, I recognized his features immediately, and there, pressed against his throat, glowing white was a tumour or mass, or whatever the doctor wanted to call it.

"So what do we do?" Alex asked.

"We remove it."

"Okay, so should I go set a date with your receptionist or what's the process?"

"I have an opening tomorrow at seven for surgery so we can go ahead and get you admitted."

My jaw dropped, but Alex spoke first, "t-tomorrow?"

"Yes, I think that it's best to get this out sooner than later."

"I… okay, um…tomorrow… um..." Alex stammered.

"Okay, seven tomorrow, but, doc, can, can we go out for a little bit, get something to eat, clear our heads?" I spoke up, wanting a few moments alone with Alex before he went under the knife.

"Be back by seven tonight. I'll see you gentlemen in the morning, here's my card, call me if you have any questions."

I held Alex's hand and we rode silently in the elevator, the air thick and charged between us just like the taxi ride back to his apartment.

He locked the door behind us and broke down in tears, "John, I'm so sorry."

"Hey, hey, 'Lex, it's okay, you're alright, honey." I held him as he slid down the wall, sobbing.

I crouched beside him and held him in my arms, rocking him.

"I'm so sorry. I wasted so much time, I could have been with you, but I wasted-" he choked himself off with a coughing fit and screamed into the empty apartment, "goddammit!" but it only made the coughing that much worse.

"Shh… honey, shh… You didn't waste any time. I've been right here, we've always loved each other, always, you didn't waste any time. I've always been right here." I dropped all the way to the floor and let him collapse into me.

"But I got you to love me back and now I'm gonna die and that's so un-fucking-fair to you and I'm so sorry,"

I felt hot tears stream down my cheeks as I held him. He held me back. We both cried.

"You aren't dying. It's just surgery," my voice fell to a whisper, "and I've always loved you."

"And if it's cancer?"

"If! A big 'if,' if it is, we'll deal with that too. I love you, Alex. Love you always, no matter what."

"Love you, too."

We composed ourselves slowly, crying ourselves dry right there on the floor. I kissed him between shuddering breaths, just wanting to be closer to him, to offer us both some comfort. He let me kiss him, kissed me back, sighed into my touch.

"Come on, honey, let's get ready. We've got this." I helped him off the floor.

In his bedroom we packed him a backpack and got everything that he would want over the next few days.

"Can we get some dinner? Neither of us have eaten today… and well… if it's gonna be my last meal, might as well make it a good one."

"It's not your last meal. But, yeah, we can go get something to eat." I tucked his hair behind his ear.

"Okay."

"You think about what you want, I'm gonna let the guys know what's up."

"Okay."

I called Herc in the living room and he answered, "what'd you find out?"

"There's a tumour."

"Fuck." I heard him smack his hand down on a counter or table.

I heard Lafayette in the background, "what is it?" shuffling, then Hercules and Lafayette were both on speaker.

"Is it cancer?" Laf asked.

"We don't know yet, they have to do a biopsy after they take it out."

"Well, when will that be?" Hercules asked me.

"Tomorrow." I told him.

Tomorrow?" Lafayette balked.

"Yeah."

"When?"

"Seven in the morning."

"I'll be there," Hercules promised.

"And so will I." Lafayette agreed.

"Thanks, guys. I'm gonna… let you go… love you both.

They echoed their sentiments of love and I hung up.

"I was thinking oxtails?" Alex said softly in the hallway.

"Comfort food never hurt anyone." I smiled at him.

"That's true."

I shouldered his backpack and we left the apartment.

"You're so pretty." I told him, taking his hand.

He blushed and smiled, his lips twitching into his cheek.

"Stop it. You're the gorgeous one."

I bumped into him gently and grinned. It was gonna be okay. It had to be. He had to be. I'd just gotten so happy. That couldn't stop now. No, dammit. We'd be this happy for a long time.

"I like getting to flirt with you." I told him.

"I've always flirted with you, it was fun to get you worked up."

"What?" I scoffed.

"You'd get all embarrassed and hot under the collar… and I, maybe, think your freckles look really cute when you turn bright red."

I felt heat crawl over my face.

"Yeah, see, just like that." He took out his phone and took a picture of us.

I loved it. Even though I was totally embarrassed, it was my favourite photo.

He got the door to the little Jamaican spot for me and we were hit by the sound of island music. At the counter we both ordered oxtails and plantains and sat waiting for our dinner. I realized how hungry I was. It was five and neither of us had eaten all day, we were drained, exhausted, overwhelmed.

Once our order was up, I got up and retrieved our trays. I handed his plate to him and kissed him on the cheek before sitting with my own in front of me.

"I hope that you get one of those awful open in the back gowns so that while I ever so selflessly help you to the bathroom I can steal glances at your booty." I grinned, picking up an oxtail.

"Shut up." He smirked back, stabbing a plantain with his fork.

"I'm just saying. Gotta get it where I can since I think you're taking a blow job sabbatical."

He was full out smiling now. _Point: John Laurens. Self high five. _

"Typically having your throat slit open will do that, yes." He said around a bite of plantain.

"You aren't even ready for the Sweeney Todd jokes I'm gonna make."

"What?"

I made a throat slitting gesture and he rolled his eyes, balling up a napkin to throw at me.

"Just saying." I shrugged.

"You've got something on your face." He chucked the napkin at my face and we both dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"You could always tell people that they just needed to make more room for cock down there," I made a gagging sound.

"You are foul, John Laurens."

I shrugged, "I'm just saying. Admit it, I might be onto something."

"I'm not admitting a damn thing." He chuckled, taking a bite. I loved the way this felt, that somehow nothing had gotten muddied, that we were still best friends. I stared at him while he scooped rice thoughtfully onto his plastic fork, he was my best friend in the whole world.

We finished our oxtails and decided that it was time to go to the hospital. He drug his feet like it was a death march.

"Wanna just walk to the hospital?"

"Sure." He shrugged.

It was only a mile to the hospital, we took our time, hand in hand, stopping to kiss under lampposts.

The hospital stood before us, a towering silver behemoth. It seemed ominous tonight.

"Here goes." He squeezed my hand with new found confidence.

"Here goes. You got this." I squeezed back.

He got checked in and a nurse showed us to his room.

"You heading home?" He asked, changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Figured I'd stay with you."

He smiled widely and gestured to his backpack, "there's an extra pair of sweats in there."

I rummaged in his bag and got myself changed. The night nurse came in and greeted us while we sat cross legged facing each other on the bed, joking and telling stories from our 'glory days'.

"Visiting hours are technically over, but these couches are pretty comfortable to sleep on. Let me know if there's anything you guys need."

She left and we giggled at each other, "like I'm not sleeping in this goddamn bed with you," I told him, leaning forward to kiss him.

"Right where you belong."

We stretched out and covered ourselves with the scratchy hospital blanket, snuggling up to one another. It was a tight fit, but I didn't mind that it situated us closer together.

"Good thing we're skinny," he teased, pulling us tighter together. That was the problem, he seemed so skinny, too bony up against me. I liked him soft, he felt healthier like that.

"Did you ever think out of all those nights where we passed out together in college that we'd end up like this?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

"You mean all those mornings where I tried my hardest not to shove my boner in your back when we woke up?"

"Shut up, I did not give you boners."

He nodded, lips twitching a smile, "big ones."

I kissed him, tipping his chin up to me, "hard ones?"

"You know it."

He giggled a sigh, cozying in to me, I laughed at him, "I'm so glad I finally get to do this."

"Right? It's perfect. Better than I could have ever imagined… Which I did. Many times."

I shook my head, "you did not."

"Yup."

"No."

"Why do you think I stopped listening to you talk about your escapades, Jackie?"

"Why, you were jealous or something?"

He thought about it, "not jealous, I'd just imagine I was the other guy and think of you and then have to go jerk off in the shower."

"You took really long showers in college."

"I had a shit ton of stamina in college, and I had the tact to know better than to jerk off with my

'sleeping' roommate in the bed five feet away from me."

"I liked the risk. Maybe you'd wake up and catch me and help me finish the job."

"Damn… I should have done that."

"But you wasted those opportunities by lobbing pillows at my head. Little did you know that only made me wanna jerk off more. They all smelled like you."

"I don't smell like anything."

"Coffee… paper… beach salt. It's a good smell. Sexy."

"You're full of shit."

"'Kay… but I'm not. It's true. Totally."

"The coffee part might be true."

"It's all true, 'Lex."

We were quiet, just holding one another, listening to the chatter at the nurses station.

"Hope I don't die tomorrow." He mused.

"I'm sure you won't."

"What if I wake up and I can't talk?"

"I'm sure that Thomas guy from your work that you hate so much will throw a parade."

"Shut up. I mean, it could totally happen. What would you do if it happened?"

"I'd get you one of those Stephen Hawking deals," I put on a robot voice, "that's right, John, yes, fuck me, John. Harder. Beep boop, I am going to come, beep boop."

"You're dumb." He kissed me through his grin and switched off the light over the bed.

"I love you." I whispered.

"I love you, too."

We held each other and fell asleep, waking up to the five a.m. alarm I'd set. I stretched, feeling cramped in the tiny bed. He smiled halfheartedly at me.

"Morning, sunshine." I kissed his cheek.

"Hi, babe."

"You ready?"

"Guess so."

Shortly after, Dr. Hosack walked in, "good morning, guys, how are we doing this morning?"

Alex shrugged.

"Alright, so here's the plan. I'm going to make a small incision right here at the front of your neck and get in there and take the mass out along with the lobe that it's attached too, I'm going to poke around and see if there's anything else that needs my attention and go ahead and get it out too, then close you up and send you on your way. You should be out of here tomorrow."

"It's that easy?" I asked.

"Open and shut should only take about three or so hours."

"And it's pretty safe?" Alex asked.

"I've done these surgeries for almost thirty years."

"Okay." Alex agreed.

"Alright, guys, they'll come get you in about half an hour for pre-op, and I'll see you when you wake up, Alexander."

"Thanks." He whispered.

"Thank you." I echoed.

"When will we know if it's cancer?" Alex asked.

"The biopsy results will take about two days."

"Thanks." I smiled at the doctor.

"I guess it's good that we're getting this over with, right?" Alex asked me.

"Yup. Get it out of the way, get back to real life."

"Sorry for cashing in that in sickness and health bit so soon."

"Nah, that's just for marriage when you're stuck together for the shitty parts. I'm not stuck with you, I'm just here because I love you. I don't have to be here, I'm choosing to."

"I love you."

"Love you, too. Always will."

The nurses came and got him and I was sent to the waiting room where Hercules and Lafayette were waiting for me. Laf handed me a cup of coffee.

"How's he doing?" Hercules asked.

"Spirits are good. Just gotta get through it."

"Yeah." He nodded.

"And how are you?" Lafayette asked me, twisting my curls behind my ear.

"Been better."

"Did you sleep?" Hercules frowned.

"Yeah, well enough."

"Doesn't screwing in those tiny beds suck?"

Lafayette punched him in the arm.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Fucking?" Hercules tried again.

"Yeah, no, I got that part, but when? What? Why?"

"We were stuck in the hospital for like three days when Laf tried to hack off his thumb."

I remembered that, it still lived in infamy as the Great Oyster Incident of 2015 since he'd been trying to shuck an oyster when they went out to eat for their anniversary.

"You guys… did it in the bed?"

"Yeah, like four times." Hercules shrugged it off.

"It _was _our anniversary."

Hercules fingered the thin, white scar on Lafayette's thumb from where they'd had to reattach the muscle.

"So you really didn't?" Hercules pursed his lips.

"No, we really didn't."

"So you haven't?"

"No, we have."

Hercules gasped and Lafayette looked confused watching our coded volley.

"It was… it was great." I admitted.

"Obviously. I wasn't sure he'd be up for it with all this going on."

"It was kind of a… distraction."

"Good for you guys."

I blushed and sat in silence until I fell asleep on Herc's shoulder for a while. When I woke up I drank my coffee long after it went cold. It was just after half past eleven when Dr. Hosack came out.

"Hey, John."

I stood up and smoothed my clothes. He'd already changed back into his lab coat, for some reason I'd expected him in bloody scrubs, but he was the picture of professionalism.

"How is he?"

Hosack let out a sigh, "it was… more invasive than we were anticipating, I had to do a near-total thyroidectomy as well as remove a lymph node. There were more masses than the scan led me to believe, but I got them all. I've sent the masses all for biopsy, but I would prepare for a malignant diagnosis."

"Okay… Is he up? Is he alright?"

"He's starting to wake up, probably about an hour until we get him moved and you can go see him. He's already asking for you."

"He can talk?"

Hosack frowned at me, "of course he can talk, he's going to be just fine."

"He can talk," I repeated and covered my mouth, a sob tearing through me, "sorry, I'm just so happy."

"We aren't out of the woods just yet, but I am optimistic."

"Okay. Okay, good. Thank you, doctor."

I went back to Hercules and Lafayette and they wrapped their arms around me, "how is he, mon cher?" Lafayette asked, rubbing my back.

"He's okay. It was worse than they thought. He basically had to take out the whole thyroid, but he's okay. He can talk."

"Did you think he wouldn't be able to?" Hercules asked.

"He was really worried about it."

"Figures," Herc chuckled.

Lafayette and Hercules worked to make me presentable before I got to go back and see him. When I was finally called they agreed to wait and babysit our stuff.

Alex was in the bed, eyes closed, hooked up to machines, his hair was tied in a bun on the top of his head - _his hair, how long would he keep it? _\- he had gauze on his neck and wore an open gown low over his collarbones. He licked his lips and breathed softly.

"Hi, honey." I said softly, taking his hand into my own.

His eyes fluttered open and he turned his head to look at me, a smile on his chapped lips, "hi, baby," he rasped.

"Hi."

"I can talk."

"I know, you're gonna be just fine."

"I don't have a… thyroid."

"Nah. They just get in the way."

"I didn't die… just for you."

"For me? You shouldn't have."

He lifted up the hand with the IV in it and flipped me off.

"Laf and Herc are here, they said to tell you hi."

He gave me a thumbs up.

"I'll let you rest, honey. Be here later, okay?" I kissed his forehead, he smelled like iodine.

"'Kay. John?"

"What, honey?"

"Will you marry me?" He grinned at me.

"They gave you the good drugs, huh?"

"No… I mean it." He coughed and it looked like it hurt, "just think about it."

"Okay, sure, go to sleep. See you soon."

I met Lafayette and Hercules back in the waiting room.

"How is he?" Laf asked me.

"He's okay… he... asked me to marry him." I laughed it off.

"I thought you said he was okay," Hercules teased.

"Shh, be nice." Lafayette chastised Hercules, leaning forward to look at me.

"Oh whatever, it was just the morphine talking." I rolled my eyes.

Lafayette's voice was higher pitched than I'd ever heard it, "was it, though?"

"Shut up, Laf."

Hercules pushed me away, turning his attention to Lafayette, "baby. Baby. Bay-bee, what do you know?"

Lafayette smirked and shrugged.

"I thought you couldn't see it?" Herc pressed.

"It is easier to keep secrets in French." He inspected his nails.

"I knew it! Multilingual, motherfucks."

I smiled to myself. Things were going to be okay. Finally we all got to go back and see him. He seemed a little bit more alert, his bandages were tinged a light brown now, but he was okay. Lafayette and Hercules greeted him and I sat on the bed by his knees. We talked to him, he choked out a few words here and there, eventually he was brought broth for dinner and Hercules and Lafayette went to go find me real food.

"I'm so glad you're okay." I told him, sliding to the end of the bed to rub his feet.

They had him in those awful yellow terry socks with the rubber on the soles. I pulled them off him and started to rub his feet. Inspecting them, admiring them. This was one of the parts of knowing him for a decade but dating him for a few days, I'd never paid attention to his feet. They were slim, paler than the rest of his body, the nails trimmed and carefully maintained, little hairs curling on the knuckles of his big toes, just like on his fingers.

"That feels good." He rasped.

"Yeah? Take care of my sweetheart."

He grinned, his face seemed swollen from the anesthesia.

"You do."

We sat quietly, him sipping flavourless brown broth while I rubbed his feet. This was a good life. It didn't matter that he was hurt… sick… it didn't matter that we were in the hospital. It was a good life. Any life where we were together was a good life.

The nurse came to change his bandages and I got a peek at the incision. It was about three inches long, straight across the bottom of his throat, bright red and held together with blue sutures. He winced as the bandage was changed.

"Still think I'm so pretty?" Alex asked, his voice coming through for the first time since he'd woken up.

"Gorgeous. That hair though, honey." I laughed.

He felt the top of his head, "pretty rough?"

"You look like a pineapple."

He shrugged, "my boyfriend thinks I'm pretty."

"Your boyfriend thinks so, huh?"

He nodded, flashing me a big smile.

Lafayette and Hercules brought me dinner and hung out while we ate. Alex looked longingly at my gyro and rice.

"This'll fuck you up, honey." I reminded him

"I know. I don't actually want to eat, it just smells good. I kind of never want to eat again."

"Throat still hurts?" I asked, wiping my face with a napkin.

"Yeah, it's pretty bad. I'll be fine, they'll give me more drugs later. My stomach is the worst part though," he closed his eyes and let out a deep breath.

"Fuck that, they'll give you more drugs now." Hercules set down his to go box and went to find the nurse.

"We're pretty lucky to have that guy." I smiled.

Lafayette looked after him dreamily, "we really are,"

Hercules managed to convince the nurse to give Alex more of the good drugs and he started to fall asleep while the rest of us finished eating.

"We are going to go ahead and go," Lafayette whispered, hugging me.

"Thanks, guys, for everything." I hugged Hercules next.

They took our trash and left, I changed back into Alex's sweatpants and curled into the bed next to him, making us both fit. He held my hand and turned his head into my shoulder, snoring softly.

Alex slept fitfully, I stayed awake most of the night to keep watch over him. He complained of the pain and that he still felt nauseous, but went back to sleep for a little while. I held him while he shivered with nausea and held the pink plastic kidney bucket for him while he got sick, dabbed away the tears that he didn't even notice fall from the pain of the stomach acid stinging his raw throat, wiped his face with a wet rag to clean him up, fed him ice chips afterwards.

"Sorry," he muttered, looking scraggly, sweaty hair sticking to his face.

"Shh… don't be sorry, baby. I've got you."

"This sucks."

"Yeah, it does."

I thought about how much worse it could get if he did have to go through treatment, but quickly pushed those thoughts away, we'd cross that bridge if we got to it.

"Still love me?"

"Forever and then some."

"Okay." He fell back asleep once I'd given him his reassurance.

We made it through the night and when Hosack made his rounds he let Alex know we were in for another night at the hospital.

"Do you need anything, honey?" I asked him.

He shook his head, "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

He nodded.

"I'm gonna go to the cafeteria and get some breakfast, okay?"

He nodded again, I could tell that the night of throwing up had hurt him more than he wanted to let on.

I was alone in the elevator, the tiredness set it. The reality set in. I tried to focus on the fact that we'd known each other for so long and not that we'd just started dating, but it was an odd situation, my brain didn't know what to make of it.

The cafeteria, like all hospital cafeterias served reconstituted food that had probably been in cans since the 1970's as well as 'healthy options' like sandwiches made of soggy bread and wilted lettuce. They had scrambled eggs which I was sure came from a powder as well as toast and sausage. None of it tasted good, none of it was particularly filling. The coffee was fine, made all the better once it was light and sweet. I held my head in my hands, feeling like I could fall asleep right there. Determined to get back to Alex, I threw away my trash and headed back up to his room. He was waiting with clean bandages on, watching something on the little television hanging in the corner.

"Hi, baby." I kissed his head and got into the bed with him.

"Hi, love." His voice was coming back slowly.

"I'm just gonna… cuddle you and nap for a minute, is that okay?"

"It's okay…" he pressed on his chest like he hoped that that would ease the pain from speaking in his throat, "I'm sorry for putting you through so much… rest, you need it."

I told him I didn't mind, cuddled up to him and quickly fell asleep, tucking his leg between mine, resting my head low on his chest. My ass hung over the edge of the tiny bed, core engaged so I wouldn't fall off. I slept to the sounds of some law drama playing in the background and the steady beeping of his heart monitor. Sleep coated me, embraced me, I was dead to the world until the late afternoon, the sun was mostly set, Alex had turned on the light over the bed and bathed us in stark, sterile fluorescent lighting. I woke up to the sound of typing.

"What are you…" I asked him, staring at the computer on his table, watching him type one handed, the other arm around me still.

"Working on a story." His voice sounded even better.

"I'm sure you have the day off."

"And give Thomas this story? Nah, I'm good."

"How do you feel?"

"Better. I get to eat real food tonight."

"Are you nauseous?"

"Little bit." He shrugged.

"Thanks for letting me sleep."

He nodded and handed my phone to me from off the table, I'd missed calls and texts from Hercules and called him back.

"Hey, you alive?" He answered the phone.

"Still kicking, saw I missed your calls, what's up?"

"Gonna bring you dinner. Hungry?"

"Please. If you don't mind. Anything."

"Be there soon."

"Thank you."

I hung up and read what Alex was typing. Even with only one hand he was still faster than I was with both of mine. He left his hand in the middle of the keyboard, all of his fingers moving, knowing from memory where the keys were. I couldn't imagine typing with one hand and not just doing the good old hunt and peck with my pointer finger.

"You blow my mind." I told Alex.

"Why?" He coughed quietly.

"How you type. How you get back to work while in the hospital from having your whole ass thyroid out."

"I try."

"What's this story?"

"New tax in the city. Everyone's pissed."

"Hmm…" I didn't care about taxes nearly as much as he did… no one cared about anything as much as he did.

"Worst part is just how bad my fucking shoulders hurt. That's half the reason I'm still on these drugs."


	3. Chapter 3

The only sound in the room was him typing, I snuggled against him, still trying not to fall off the tiny bed until Hercules and Lafayette arrived with Chipotle bags in hand. Herc slapped my ass which still hung over the edge of the bed.

"Hey!" I flipped him off, still not moving.

"You were advertising." He shrugged.

Lafayette gave my ass a swat and giggled as he followed Hercules into the room.

"Really?"

Laf shrugged and started doling out Chipotle.

Alex's voice had recovered to a scratchy whine that made it sound that much more adorable when he whimpered, glaring at our friends, "hey, that's mine."

Hercules laughed heartily and sipped his coke, "not like you're using it right now."

Alex pressed on his chest to alleviate the pain of speaking, "I'm… busy not having a thyroid."

"Exactly! Which means that if your man is just gonna leave his ass hanging out, it's getting slapped." Hercules pointed out.

"Someone should." Lafayette agreed.

Alex tried to reach my ass but couldn't, I carefully unravelled our legs and stood up, bending over in front of him well within reach and swaying my hips, he slapped my ass lightly and I chuckled.

"Hey! There it is!" Lafayette cheered.

"Ooh, baby, I think we gotta go, it's about to go down in this hospital bed." Hercules stage whispered to Lafayette.

I rolled my eyes at the two of them and stood up and grabbed my dinner, before sitting back on the end of Alex's bed.

"Herc, what is your weird obsession with doing the do in a hospital bed?" I asked, opening my bow and noticing that they'd gotten me guacamole because they love me.

"Have you tried it?"

Alex pointed to his gauzed neck and then flipped off Hercules.

"Damn, that's a good point. Shit, Jackie, your man about to be horny up in here. Better take care of that."

"Trust me. We get him home, get him healthy, it's on like fucking Donkey Kong." I promised.

Alex coughed, "baby, no one says that anymore."

"Shh, that's not the point." I patted his knee.

Hercules and Lafayette stayed well after visiting hours, we all watched some awful Lifetime movie together, making up a drinking game for it even though none of us had any alcohol.

"Oh, yes yes! She's gonna say it, watch!" Hercules pointed at the screen.

In tandem with the blonde midlife crisis candidate on the screen, Laf said in an affected voice, "I didn't ask for this life!"

"Drink!" I cheered.

We all agreed that had we actually had any alcohol we would have had alcohol poisoning from the amount of times that someone cried, flung themselves against a wall dramatically or wagged a finger in someone's face. After the shitty movie was over our friends packed up their things and got ready to go.

"Thanks for hanging out," I told them.

"Of course, got us out of having to host movie night this week. Thanks for that, Alex."

"Happy to help." He grinned back.

Lafayette squeezed my shoulder and kissed my cheek, "get some rest."

I squeezed his hand, "I will."

"Bye," Alex waved.

"See you later, Alex. Bust out of here tomorrow, yeah?" Herc patted his blanket covered foot.

"That's the plan." I insisted.

"Come on, baby, let's go." Hercules put his arm around Lafayette's waist and they were gone.

"That was really nice." I said, cuddling back up to Alex.

"It was. We have… some good people."

"Yeah, we sure do. I'm still tired. You gonna be able to sleep? Not in pain?"

"I'm okay. Love you, Jack."

"Love you too, honey."

We drifted off in each other's arms and I slept peacefully, dreamlessly, waking up only to the nurse knocking at the door in the morning.

"Morning, guys! Looks like we're getting out of here today. That's awesome. Alright, let's get those bandages changed."

"Okay, thanks," Alex smiled at her, his voice sounded almost normal.

I sat up and stretched.

The nurse turned to me, "you're going to be the one changing them at home, I'm guessing."

Alex started to answer, "I… I will."

I shook my head, "no, I'll do it."

"Okay, perfect, let me just show you. We're gonna get rid of these huge pads, alright? Just these little strips from now on." She instructed me on how to clean and change the dressing and then all we had to do was wait for the doctor.

"How do you feel today, honey?" I asked once we were alone.

"Better, still dizzy."

"That's probably because you haven't eaten in like two days."

"Probably."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not that bad. Sleep helped."

"Good. That's good. I'm glad you slept."

"Morning, gents," Dr. Hosack entered the room.

"Hi," we both greeted him.

"Alright, are you guys ready to go home?"

We nodded, eager to not be in the hospital any longer than we had to be.

Hosack took a final look at the incision site and then gave us the rundown on the calcium supplements and hormones that Alex would need to take at least for a while.

"And the biopsy?" Alex asked.

"I talked to the lab, they'll let me know tomorrow and even though it's a weekend, I'll give you a call. I know that has to be hanging over your heads."

"Yeah…" Alex admitted.

"Alright, well, everything looks good, you guys. Let's get you home."

Within the next hour Alex was signing discharge papers and we were headed home in a cab.

"I'm just gonna stay here tonight if that's okay? I'll go home tomorrow and get more of my stuff and whatever, but I don't want to leave your side." I told him, locking the door behind us.

"You can do whatever. I don't want to hold you hostage." He nuzzled my cheek.

"You aren't holding me hostage. I want to be with you."

"Okay." He nodded, his eyes looked a little glassy.

"You feeling okay?"

He swallowed, "just a little bit dizzy."

"Come on, let's go lie down, honey."

I walked him to the bedroom and got him situated in bed. He winced.

"What's the matter? What hurts?"

"My neck and my shoulders." He rolled his shoulders, trying to find some comfort.

"Come here." I sat him up and eased his shirt off to rub his back.

The muscles in his neck and shoulders were cold, immovable metal, but I dug my thumb into them, trying to loosen the stiffness I felt. He moaned out loud and turned his head from side to side. I could help myself to kiss his neck, breathe him in. He still smelled like hospital. I hated that smell, it was foreign, that smell didn't belong to Alex, it belonged to sick people, dying people. Alex was neither.

"Thank you," he leaned back against me.

I loved the feeling of his skin on me, even if it still smelled like iodine and lysol it was warm and soft and perfectly Alex. He fell asleep like that, leaned back on my chest, my arms around his waist, me whispering in his ear. We were okay. Things were okay. Hours passed, I'd fallen asleep, too. We woke in the dark and he seemed groggy and uncomfortable, I got him his pain medication and some broth to sip, his stomach still irritated from the half life of the anesthesia.

"I want to take a shower." He begged, making a face of disgust at himself.

"Let's get you a shower, then," I helped him up and he walked across the hall, pretty sure on his feet after his nap.

He stripped down and I helped him step into the shower, he was still a little bit out of it.

"Careful to keep your incision dry." I reminded him.

"Yeah… Kay."

I sat on the toilet, he was still dizzy, I didn't want him to fall, and if he did, I wanted to be right there.

He grunted and whined in frustration after a few minutes, "John?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Hey, I can't get my arms up high enough to wash my hair, help?"

I stood up, "of course, come here. I've got you."

I reached into the tub and lathered shampoo in his greasy, knotted hair. It reminded me of college when he claimed he didn't have time to wash it and would let it knot beyond recognition in a bun until it was finally one greasy mat and he'd start the process all over again. He moaned at my touch. I loved taking care of him, it further established he was finally mine.

"Thanks," he sounded a little defeated, a hit to his pride to need help.

I rinsed his hair with the handheld showerhead and smoothed conditioner into it.

"'Course. Remember junior year when I broke my collarbone in rugby and you had to help me shower?"

"Oh, shit, that's right. I forgot all about that."

"Dude, that hurt so goddamn bad. I never thought I was gonna get over it, it was like moving, breathing, everything was the worst."

"I got to play nurse for you." He was reminiscing of how much I'd needed him then, sleeping on his lap, getting new ice packs, my medication.

"You did a good job."

"Man you were hot in your rugby days."

"Hey, I'm still hot," I laughed rinsing out the conditioner.

"That's true, but shit, you all sweaty and aggressive out on the field."

"Is that why you came to all my games?"

"No… I… maybe,"

"God, we're fucking dumb, took us too damn long to get smart."

"Doesn't matter. Got you now."

"And a long long time from now." I promised, noticing the little clump of dark hair that sat on the drain, cleaning had never been Alex's strongsuit and I thought back to the arguments we got into during our semesters as roommates when he'd forget to clean his hair out of the shower and leave me to take my showers in four inches of water in the tub because it couldn't drain through his hair. My breath caught in my throat as I wondered how much bigger those clumps could get if… it wouldn't happen… he was fine.

"Hope so," he smiled.

I helped him out of the shower and handed him a towel.

"I should shave," he looked at himself in the mirror, stubble was filling in high on his cheeks, "fuck it, not tonight."

I helped him into the bedroom and got him situated in boxers and a t shirt.

"You have to try and eat tonight, baby, you know that."

"Yeah, okay."

"Anything sound good?"

"Ramen? From the place down the street?"

"Yeah? I gotcha, sweetheart."

I went out to get him some dinner. It was only when I was alone that everything hit me. I felt sick to my stomach over the news we could get tomorrow. I'd felt confident until we'd heard about the lymph node. I'd felt confident when the doctor didn't think that his whole thyroid would have to go. I sat waiting for our dinner and felt shaky, hot, anxious. I wasn't sure how we'd make it through, but we would. We had to. We had to. We'd make it.

I kept repeating this over and over to myself. There was no other option. No way out but through. He was strong. He was stubborn. He would be okay. We'd be okay. Things were still so new for Alex and I, I hadn't even had the time to process, not really. We hadn't had the chance to talk about our future, to dream. None of it. The food was ready so I paid and left, walking back to his apartment, my own going neglected, there was nowhere else I'd rather be in this moment, though. Going to my own apartment and leaving Alex alone at his seemed unthinkable.

I let myself in and found him asleep in his bed. I sat on the edge and roused him, he had to eat, had to keep his strength up. It was especially important because I knew that if we ended up getting bad news in the morning neither of us would want to eat.

"Thanks," he smiled, sitting up in bed to eat.

The soup was warm and comforting, I was happy to finally be able to just relax at home with him. We needed some hope to cling to, I wanted to give us a future to look forward to, but starting the conversation seemed difficult.

"Think we're still going to be eating ramen in bed when we're eighty?"

"If I make it that long." He sounded resigned to the fate that he'd accepted.

This was why we needed optimism, if, _if, _things didn't go well in the morning, he couldn't start that fight with that attitude.

"You will. I mean, if we don't stop global warming soon, none of us will make it that long, but other than that, yeah, you will. But, do you think we'll still be doing this?"

He set his takeout container down on the bedside table and took my hand, "I hope so. I was serious about asking you to marry me, you know. It wasn't just the drugs, I know I was high as a kite when I said it, but really, I did mean it. I'm tired of dicking around. I love you, always have, always will, John. You're my everything."

That… _that _was some optimism.

"Well… I… okay. I could be down for that." I smirked at him.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I mean, why not? It seems right, doesn't it?"

"It seems right." He agreed.

"So… we're doing this? Does that make you my fiance?"

"I guess it does, sorry I don't have a ring or anything… I've been a little busy since I confessed my undying love for you."

"Yeah, no, I'm good. Don't even worry about it."

"The titles seem weird, don't they?"

"A little bit, yeah, like you've always just been Alex, which is like a title in and of itself because you're you and you're you to me which is basically just this pedestal and I love you so much. You saved my ass the other day with the whole 'partner' thing."

"Partner always sounded goofy to me before, but that's because it was reserved for you. That's what you are, John. You're my partner. Fuck, this last week alone is enough to show you that. You're my partner, my right hand, my other half."

"I love you, babe."

We finished our soup. I was impressed at how much he ate, seeming hungry once there was food in front of him, it was easy to fall asleep with old episodes of Friends playing in the background, we were able to stretch out in bed and he let me hold him properly, not with a side order of me hanging on for dear life to not fall off the bed. His hair smelled like his shampoo, his skin back to that beachy, old book smell, not the sterile, sickly sweet iodine hospital smell. I breathed him in, never wanting to let go.

In the morning, though, I had to let go. We had to just pretend like we weren't waiting for news that could rock our worlds. We didn't have to wait long, Hosack called just after ten. He asked us to come in. My heart sank.

"Maybe it isn't a bad thing. Maybe he just wants to check on your surgery site." I suggested, looking through Alex's closet to try and find clothing that would fit me well enough.

"This had better just be the worst ever case of a meeting that could have been an email or else I swear to God..." He choked up, covering his mouth with his hand.

I enveloped him in my arms, "hey, hey, hey, no, no, shh… I gotcha, honey, I gotcha."

"John…" he whispered tearfully.

"Hey, no, none of that, we don't even know anything yet. We don't know. We don't. Save this for later, either you'll need it then or you'll feel silly for wasting it at all. Okay?"

He sniffled and nodded, wiping his eyes. I kissed his cheek. It was going to be okay because that was the only option there was.

"Good morning, guys, thanks for coming in." Hosack gestured to the chairs across from his desk.

Alex and I took first our seats and then each others' hands.

"Thank you for working a weekend." Alex said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.

"How are you feeling, Alexander?"

"Better."

"Good! Any pain at the surgery site?"

"No, John's kept it really clean." He squeezed my hand.

"You're lucky to have such a good nurse."

"I'm just lucky to have him," I kissed Alex's hand.

"Well, guys, there isn't an easy way to say this, but the lab results came back positive. Alexander, you do have cancer. The good news is that the thyroidectomy got it under control there as I was able to get out all of the thyroid tissue. The bad news, however, is that it is in your lymphatic tissue. We caught it in a decent amount of time. We're in stage two, could be a lot worse, but it could be much better, too."

Alex only nodded and squeezed my hand so hard that it hurt.

"What does that mean?" I asked, finding a voice for Alex.

"It means we're going to war. I've already referred you to the best oncologist in the hospital and you're all set to start chemo tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Alex repeated.

"What's the… prognosis?" I asked.

"I'm hopeful that with an aggressive treatment plan you'll beat this in no time. It's going to be a long road, but I'm thinking that we should be able to get you healthy. Seventy-five percent chance of full remission."

"And twenty-five percent chance of?" Alex pressed.

"There is a lot of room between full remission and the scenarios that I know are playing through your head right now. I have confidence, Alexander."

The rest of the meeting felt like a blur, it was filled with militaristic analogies about battling and aggressive treatment plans. I didn't even pay attention to us leaving, getting back to his place, any of it.

"Fuck." Alex threw himself in bed.

"I know."

"Fuck! God! Fuck!" He cried and held me for comfort, gripping my shirt tightly.

_Don't cry. Don't cry. Don't cry._

My jaw muscles flexed as I did everything in my power not to sob right along with him. I hated seeing him like this and chalked it up to being a sign that he really didn't feel good. He was never so emotional, never a crier like this. Crying was usually my go to whereas he was the strong and silent type. But he'd been so raw lately, a testament to how badly he felt.

He stayed like this for hours, I stayed right there with him. He was finally cried out and starting to doze. I kissed his hair and whispered that I needed to go home and get some of my things. It was evident that I was basically moving in to take care of him. I desperately needed to shower. I desperately needed to have my own breakdown and I knew that I couldn't do it in front of Alex, that would have been too much for him. I knew he was wrestling with guilt already, feeling bad about 'dragging me into the middle of this,' I wanted to be in the middle of it if that was where he was.

Cold air stung my lungs on the walk back to my apartment and once I was inside I let myself go. Let the rage consume me and transform me into someone I didn't recognize. Too angry to cry. I picked up a dirty plate sitting on the counter and threw it as hard as I could into the sink, satisfied with the smashing sound it made as it broke.

"Why? Fuck me. Why? Why the fuck? I just..." I picked up a glass and smashed it with as much force as possible in the sink right along with the plate, and a bowl, another plate, another glass.

My kitchen sink filled up with broken glass and ceramic, chips scattering about on the counters and I finally realized I was crying. I slumped down to the floor, back against the oven door. I pressed my thumbs to my eyes and wept, letting myself roar a scream, neighbours be damned. It wasn't fair. They should be happy to just be mildly inconvenienced by a heartbroken man.

"I waited so goddamn long! I waited and now… fuck! Fuck this shit, fuck!" I gripped my hair and wept into my knees, wishing there was something else nearby to break.

It was bullshit.

It was fucking bullshit.

All of it.

But Alex was alone, probably asleep, but maybe alone and scared and sad, so I got up, decided to deal with the broken dishes at a later date, and stripped naked and got in the shower. I let the hot water beat down on me, feeling it cling to my eyelashes, and jerked off. Angry. sexually frustrated, wanting some kind of release, some kind of letdown. I spent myself down the drain and washed my hair, not able to tell the difference between tears and shower mist.

I threw almost all of my clothes into my suitcase and a few other of my belongings, sketchbook, favourite pillow, and headed back to Alex. I didn't want to have to leave his side more than I had to. I didn't want to be all alone either.

He _was _sleeping, so peacefully, despite the puffiness of his red eyes. I knew that things were going to get worse before they got better. I stared at him sleeping, looking so little, so wasted and I hated his body. I hated that the sack of flesh he was stuck in was betraying the brilliant mind living inside of it, the loving soul, the witty, whip smart, cocky, sexy, silly man that I loved. He deserved so much more than a body that didn't understand the gift it was given when his brain got to be the one to live in there.

I got into bed with him just to hold him, just to be as close to him as possible, wanting to comfort him and wanting being close to him to bring comfort to me. Long shadows painted the walls, he was basked in blue twilight. Serene.

"Mmm… John?" he stretched.

"I'm here, honey, right here, always right here."

He sighed and stretched again, waking up, "glad you're back. You okay?"

"Mm-hmm," I hoped it sounded convincing and I started to rub his shoulders, knowing they were still sore.

"That feels good."

"Good. Take care of you." I leaned in and kissed his temple.

"I want to do something for you. You've taken such good care of me."

"You have… but right now, you're sick. You don't have to do anything for me.

"I want to, though. I'm grateful you're here." He rolled over to face me and I looked into his dark eyes, so much sadness still hung in them, but that sadness was slowly being burned away by resolute determination. His stubbornness would be the thing that got him through this. There wasn't a better candidate for this fight.

"Nowhere else I'd rather be." It was an oath.

"I… don't think you should stay with me."

"Stop it, Alex." I was stern, I meant it, I wasn't going to have any of this sick dog going off to die alone bullshit, we were a team, we were in this together. He was my partner.

"I'm serious John. Don't… don't go down with the ship, go, catch a lifeboat. I'll figure it out."

"Would you tell me that if we were still just best friends?"

"What?" I caught him off guard.

"Would you want me to go then?"

"No… I guess not."

"Well, you're still my best friend, so guess what, you're stuck with me, and I'm still gonna be your best friend, but I'm still gonna fucking kiss you, too. I went too many years without getting to do that and I'm not stopping now. Nothing will stop me from doing that."

"You're sure?"

"You're goddamn right, I'm sure. I will stand by your side until I'm dead and gone. I didn't wander for years waiting on you, waiting on us just to quit over some bullshit cancer. Nah, fuck that, I'm staying, baby." I pecked his lips to emphasize the point I was trying to make.

"Good. I mean… I want you to. It just seems selfish, like, shit, we just got together and boom this shit happens."

"That's how life goes."

"Yeah, it is."

"Here right beside you, honey, do everything I can to help you. We're a team." I reiterated.

"I'm…I'm probably gonna get pretty sick with the chemo… and lose my hair and shit, too, so um… one last hurrah?"

"What do you mean?" I asked him.

"I want to make love with you, John. I want to just be totally with you. I don't know what's coming around the next bend, but I know we have tonight, nothing's promised, there's no guarantees, so love me now?"

"Alex, are you up for that? You just had surgery, you've… we've both had a long, emotional day."

"Please, John?" He was almost begging… in another setting it would have been hot… even in this setting it was still pretty hot.

"Okay, okay, yeah. You're the boss. I just don't want to hurt you."

"I'll tell you if you do."

I helped him undress and then took my own clothes off. Just feeling his skin against mine was satisfying, it swirled dopamine and serotonin in a cloud around us and we sighed into each other, feeling the relief of one another's presence. He was the first to make our embrace sexual, reaching between us he stroked me hard. I kissed his forehead, stroking his cheek, soaking him in. This was going to be the best sex either of us had ever had. I'd never loved anyone like I loved Alex and I needed him to know that, needed him to feel it. I started with kissing every inch of his body, spending extra time on his thighs, just enjoying the soft flex of the muscles when he particularly liked what I was doing.

"You switch, right?" He asked, trying to draw memory from conversations about our sex lives.

"What? I'm down to bottom, but are you up for all that?" I looked up at him from my vantage point between his legs.

"If you ride me, I think that's the easiest."

"Um, sure… okay. Gimme a minute." I got off the bed and rummaged through the suitcase I packed, retrieving the small plastic bottle of lube and squirting some on my fingers to open myself quickly.

I was good at what I did, years of what Herc nicknames 'hoeing' made sure of that, so whether topping or bottoming I didn't need much to be ready. Alex stared up at me, lust and want darkening his eyes. I lowered myself onto his hard and waiting cock, trying not to jostle him too much. His girth was satisfying. A deep, hot burn melted my core as I sank down on him. He groaned in pleasure, a sound that went straight to my cock, making it bounce. Alex stroked me from tip to base with two fingers, teasing me while I adjusted to having him inside me.

"You're good?" I asked him.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" He responded with a grin.

I winked at him, "oh, please, honey, I am doing just fine. I swear to God, though, if we rip those stitches."

I rocked back toward my heels and started to ride him, sitting all the way on his base, writhing back and forth, loving the stretch, the burn of being filled with his girth.

"You're so gorgeous, John. All those freckles, curls, your eyes, body. Everything about you is perfect." He reached up and played with my hair.

"Alex, you're incredible. I could stare at you forever. Go mad just looking at you."

He held me by the hips and rolled his own hips against me, changing the angle exploring new sensations. I hiccupped a moan and rode him harder, I had to have more of him, needed to feel every part of him. I rolled my body, both of us taking turns being more dominant than the other. He made me feel safe, though, looking up at me with love and caring in those dark doe eyes. I leaned over him, still grinding down on his hips and kissed him, taking his face into my hands.

He accepted my kiss, lapped at my tongue and sucked my lips until they were swollen and painful. I wanted more, he made me feel so greedy, so needy. Alex flooded my senses as he started once again stroking my cock. His hand moved slowly, paying special attention to the tip, trailing down to squeeze my balls. He took care of me, considered me and my needs. Tears tracked both of our faces. This sex was meaningful, emotionally tantric. It meant more than any other experience I'd ever had.

"Love you, John," he whispered.

"Love you, too. Here forever. So glad you're mine." I took him into my arms, holding him close to me while he thrust deeper into me. My back arched into the sensation.

"I've always been yours, John. I'm just glad we said it out loud." He sucked at my neck, lips finding the notch of bone where my collarbone had healed.

"I still plan on marrying you." I promised.

He grinned up at me, "you better."

"I'm totally just marrying you for that sexy ass scar you're gonna have."

He giggled and cried a little harder, wiping his face before putting his arm around my neck, "sorry, I just really want to be a grumpy old man with you."

More tears streamed down my own cheeks and I pressed myself even deeper onto his shaft, "don't you worry, Alex, we're gonna be old as hell together. Like shit our pants and ear hair and turning up the tv, fighting over the thermostat old."

"Do you promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die."

"No dying, either of us," He rolled his hips up to meet me and I pushed against him for friction, picking up speed.

Alex gripped my arms and I felt him get closer and tightened my muscles around him. With a final groan, I felt him spend himself, hot and wet inside me. He was beautiful when he came, almost looking surprised, his eyebrows coming together, lips parting in a perfect circle. He was like a marble sculpture, divinely inspired.

"Still want to make you come." He said, turning even more attention to my swollen cock.

His hand fisted around my shaft got me close and the way he looked at me, closer, but then when he twitched inside me it sent me over the edge, spurting onto his chest. He bit his lip, staring down at himself, covered in my come. My cock twitching as the final few drops leaked out.

"Thank you." He whispered.

I kissed in the air at him, sliding up off him to get us a washcloth to clean up. He looked smug and satisfied with himself. Smug Alex was my favourite Alex. That was when he was the sexiest, when he won the rights to a new story, when he'd gained the upper hand in a twitter battle, that was the sexiest Alex.

"You happy now?" I asked him, wiping off his belly.

"Hell yeah. I wasn't about to go through all of this shit without getting laid. I'm finally with you, all I want to do is fucking screw you. Stupid ass cancer getting in the way of my plans."

"Well… we'll just have to make up for it. We get that all clear for remission and we're going somewhere, just you and me. Got it? Wherever you want, we'll go. Go screw in a cabin in the woods for a whole week."

He laughed, "Jack if you think I'm gonna beat cancer just to be killed by some chainsaw wielding, deadite, homophobic, backwoods cult, you're the dumbest kind of human."

"Okay, fine no cabins."

"Beach house on the other hand," he mused.

"I'll start saving up my big freelance artist paychecks now." I teased.

"Alright, that's a deal. And I'm gonna screw you so much you won't even know what hit you."

"I like that part of the plan. Just promise we'll do that wherever we go."

"Promise. Now come over here and let me hold you. I want to take care of you. You just let me dick you down, now let me love on you. It's the least I can do."

I cuddled up with him, letting him be the big spoon. I pushed the feelings of guilt away and let him take care of me, let him nurture and love me. I always loved his hugs, they were the best feeling in the world. He was stronger than he looked and his broad chest was the most inviting place. Tonight especially, it felt good being so close to him, the smell of our sex clung to him and it drove me crazy. I loved him so completely, I wanted him so desperately.

"You're going to be okay," I reminded him as I drifted off to sleep, our fingers intertwined.


	4. Chapter 4

The oncology waiting room was warm and friendly, or at least the hospital facsimile version of being warm and friendly. It didn't matter how soft the lighting was, my thoughts were transfixed on Alex, needle in him, getting pumped full of poisons that would indiscriminately attack his body. His perfect, sexy, wonderful, sick, traitorous body. I didn't go back with him, there was only enough room in there for him and his ego. I was sure in a few weeks he'd drop the bullshit and I'd go back with him and we could talk or shoot the shit and pretend that nothing was happening.

But today was not that day. Today I got to sit all by myself, sick with worry, watching the stream of frail, very bald, bandana-adorned, badly wigged sick people come out of the long hallway he'd walked down. I almost assumed that he would come out looking like a copy of all of those sick people. He didn't look sick, though, he looked like my Alex still. He was skinny, sure, but his cheeks weren't hollowed out, he had so much thick, luscious, dark hair. He was strong. He was my Alex. He came out about an hour later.

"Hey, ready to go." He nudged me.

"Let's get you home. How do you feel?"

"Pretty much fine." He shrugged.

"Good. That's perfect. Good." I wrapped my arm around him and we left the hospital, we were spending too much time in that hospital.

"It really wasn't that bad." He shrugged, we'd both been expecting the worst.

"That's wonderful, honey. Do you want to go home or do you want to do something?"

He leaned into my side, "it didn't go that well, I kind of just want to sleep forever."

I wondered how much of that was the anxiety let down or just depression over his diagnosis, or depression in general. Alex had never hidden his depression or anxiety from me. I'd watched him try different medications and become a zombie until he weaned off of them. His depression was part of why I wanted so desperately to keep his spirits up.

"We can just go to bed if that's what you want."

"No, I need to work on my story." He argued.

"Honey, you just started chemo. Take a day off."

"Jackie, the news isn't taking a day off… Thomas isn't taking the day off. I may be getting chemo, but I'm still a damn good journalist."

"Well… yeah, no, of course you are, but jeez, babe, a day off won't change things."

He put his hand in my back pocket while we waited for our uber, "we'll see. How are you holding up? You look pretty beat."

"Yeah," I shrugged, "just not sleeping too well worrying about you."

"Do you want to go to your place? I'll come with you."

I remembered the broken dishes in the sink and shook my head, "no, honey, let's just go to your place."

He swept my hair away from my face and we got our taxi back to his apartment.

"You're still feeling okay?" I asked him for what was pushing the thousandth time.

"I'm fine, babe."

I nodded and leaned over onto his shoulder, dozing until we got back to his apartment. Alex was determined to work on his story, so I looked on from his bed, a book of his bookshelf open in front of me as he typed at the desk in the corner. I didn't notice when I started to fall asleep, and only became aware of it when in the dark he startled me awake.

"Sorry, babe, I was just coming to sit with you." He rubbed my shoulders.

I stretched and nuzzled against his thigh, yawning, "you hungry?"

He made a non-committal noise.

I sat up, "come on, I'll make pasta."

We moved our operation to the kitchen and he sat at the breakfast bar, he looked on as I boiled a pot of water and held his head.

"Headache?" I asked him.

He let out a sigh of defeat, "yeah,"

"Come here, let's get you some advil," I rummaged through the cupboard and shook out two pills and poured him a glass of water.

He took them and leaned over onto his arms. While the water heated I went behind him to rub his shoulders, knowing they were still stiff. He arched his back into me, hunting the warmth of my body.

His voice was muffled as he complained, "I haven't had coffee in almost a week."

"Hell, that's probably why you have a headache."

"I think the morphine distracted me."

I chuckled, "well, yeah… that's its job."

I went to pour the noodles into the water and gave them a stir, just bowtie, tossed them in some butter once they were cooked, little garlic salt, Italian seasoning and we were in the money. I refilled his water and poured my own glass before dishing out our food. I took my seat across from him and we started to eat. My art was a topic of discussion, Alex was convincing me to go in to my studio in the morning and finish that commission before I lost my client. Remembering that even if my apartment was going unused, I still had bills to pay, I agreed.

Food was a blessing, I'd been so hungry, eating the last few days only when someone put food in my hands or when I was pushing it at Alex. This was good, this was normal. I had a foot propped up on Alex's thigh, toeing his hip while we ate. He kept a hand on my calf, squeezing it every few minutes.

"So what exactly is it that you're making?" He asked between bites.

"It's just corporate art, so whatever, I mean it's nothing riveting or political, but it's this giant-ass mural, just a colour wash, tranquil, whatever, but it pays hella."

His eyes went vacant and I watched his jaw muscles flex. He dropped my foot off of himself and hurried to the bathroom, slamming the door shut. I listened to him retch and bit my lip. There was so much hope from the doctors, from us, that he wouldn't get sick, at least not this quickly. He'd seemed so okay until now. Things quieted down in the bathroom and I waited for him to come out, but another wave started. Wanting to check on him, to help him any way I could I knocked on the bathroom door.

"You okay in there, boo?" I asked through the door.

He let out a grunt and managed a 'yeah' between waves of vomiting.

"Do you need anything?"

"No…" another retch, "I'm okay."

This was his pride, he was very clearly not okay, but there was nothing I could do for him if he didn't want me, so I went back to the kitchen to start him some tea. The only tea in the apartment was what I'd brought over last week. I heated water in a pot since he didn't have an actual kettle and made us both steaming mugs. Halfway through the process he opened the door and shuffled to his room. Once it was ready, I brought his tea to him in the dark room.

Alex had his arm slung over his face, lying in the dark in just his boxers and socks shivering.

"Hi, hon, you cold?"

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Do you want the blankets on?"

"Scared to move."

I clucked my tongue and bit my lip, wondering how much worse things could get and got up to tuck him in gently.

"Where are your clothes?"

"Got too hot, got… claustrophobic." He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"I made you tea."

"Okay."

I carefully got into bed next to him and he immediately gravitated to me, finding his place against my side. I brushed his hair off his sweaty neck and held him in the dark.

"Sorry you don't feel well." I whispered.

He was silent, just methodically trailing his finger up and down the line of hair under my belly button where my shirt had ridden up. I was so grateful to be his lover. It made this all feel less lonely. We slept just like that.

In the morning I left him resting and went to the studio. Hercules wasn't there yet so I hooked my phone up to the speakers and piped in old school R&B loudly, letting my silent tears blind me as I tried to paint. I kept wiping my eyes on my shoulder, frustrated when I couldn't see.

Hercules came in silently, or just too quietly to hear over Marvin Gaye. I jumped when he tapped my shoulder.

"Hey… buddy… you good?" He shouted over the music.

I went to turn it down, getting paint on my phone like that was a surprise to anyone.

"Hi… sorry about that."

He looked nervous, "um… it's fine… you… you okay?"

I sniffed and wiped my eyes on my paint free shoulder again, smiling probably too big, still feeling tears leak out of my eyes, "yeah, of course. I'm good. I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

Hercules thumbed away my tears, "because most people don't sob to Sexual Healing at work, and you've got this creepy smile thing happening."

I flapped my hands at my face, a combination of fanning myself and trying to release pent up energy in kinetic transfer. I hadn't been asked if I was okay and hearing those words was like a key to all of the emotions I'd been trying to push down to be there for Alex. In one breath, Hercules opened the floodgates. I'd never been able to lie to him, he could read me like a book.

"Clean up." Hercules instructed.

"What?" I stared at him, another tear rolling down my cheek.

"Come on. We're going for a walk."

I covered my brushes in plastic wrap and went to my paint sink to wash my hands. Hercules handed me my jacket and shut the garage door behind us. He stopped at a kiosk and bought us both hot chocolate.

"So what the hell, man?" Herc asked as we walked.

"It's been a rough few days."

"Yeah, I'll say, what's happening?"

"He had his first chemo appointment yesterday."

"Shit… how was it?"

"Spent half the evening puking."

"Shit." Herc sighed again.

"Yeah… It's a lot right now. I don't… I don't know how we make it through this. It feels so much bigger than anything I'm ready for. I don't know how to take care of him."

"You're good at taking care of people."

"I mean, like my little siblings, but those were healthy kids. I don't know how to take care of a sick grown up. Especially not one who I love so much."

"How's that whole thing going?"

"I don't even know. It's all so fucked up and weird, Herc. Like on the one hand it's pretty much the same, but now I have more skin in the game and I don't know what I'm gonna do to get through this."

"You have me and Laf, don't forget that."

"I know. I just don't know what we need. We just have to keep going and pushing forward. It just feels really far away right now. I don't know what to do." I took a sip of hot chocolate.

"You can't forget about yourself in all this, Jack. Don't let yourself burn out. Are you sleeping?"

"Kind of, we slept last night."

"Are you eating?"

"Kind of… I dunno, when Alex does."

"You have to take as good of care of yourself as you're taking of him or you guys aren't gonna make it through this."

"Okay… I know… I will."

"And we're here for you."

"I know. How are you guys? I'm being a shitty friend."

"We're fine, you get to be a shitty friend. You guys are fighting some serious shit."

"Worst part is I'm not even doing it."

"How's Alex?"

I shook my head, "he was working last night. I'm sure he's working now."

"Not at the office, though, right?"

"God, I hope not. I don't think so."

"He works too damned hard."

"Tell me about it. He was working in the hospital right after surgery."

"What a dumbass."

"I know." I felt tears sting my eyes, threatening to edge over my lower lids, he was such a dumbass, but he was my dumbass, it made him all the more endearing.

"You think you're good to try and get some work done?"

I told him that I was and we walked back to our studio. Since Hercules was also working I put headphones on instead of blaring my music through the speakers. Before getting too deep in my work I texted Alex to check on him and when I didn't get a reply assumed with a glimmer of foolish hope that he was still sleeping.

Once I was able to find my groove I was able to finish the commission rather quickly, calling to coordinate pick up and payment. The windfall of a few grand about to hit my bank account gave me some room to breathe. Making the transition to a freelancing artist hadn't been one that left me with a lot of stability, but right now I was grateful that I was in the situation I was in. Alex needed me, if I worked a regular nine to five there'd be no way I could be there for him as much as I was.

Once I'd coordinated pick up for the painting series I said my goodbyes to Hercules and headed back to Alex's.

"'Lex?" I called softly, not wanting to wake him up if I could help it.

"Hey, John, I'm back here."

As I walked down the hall I could hear him typing away at his keyboard and rolled my eyes.

"Did you get any rest today?" I asked him, rubbing his shoulders.

"I… well, some. I woke up at ten this morning which might as well be midnight, feels like I slept the whole damned day away. I wanted to catch up on all the work shit I'm missing before you got home."

"How are you feeling?"

Alex made a noncommittal sound and kept typing, "I'm almost done, then we can do something."

"Okay, love you." I kissed the top of his head and went to the kitchen to make us both some tea.

He padded down the hall once the tea was done and I handed him a steaming cup. Alex took it happily and stood next to me in the kitchen, leaning his head on my shoulder, just sharing the space with me.

"You know what?" I asked him, inspiration seizing me.

"What's that?" He turned his head to look at me.

"We haven't gotten to dance together yet."

"Oh, please, we've danced together a million times." It was true, we had, we'd grinded on each other in clubs on nights out all through college… but… like in a best friend way… mostly… kind of.

I set my mug down and took his away, setting it on the counter next to mine.

"No… I mean dance for real."

He chuckled at me, "I suppose we should fix that soon."

"How about right now?" I slipped our hands together and pulled him close to me, swaying us slightly side to side.

"Jack," he smirked, conflict on his face catching him between wanting to call me silly and being endeared by my desire to hold him close.

"Shh, just dance with me." I swayed us there in the kitchen, my hand in his, the other on the small of his back, pulling him in tightly to me.

Alex leaned his head on my shoulder, letting me lead, I knew he wasn't feeling well with this total submission of dominance as opposed to the volley that usually played out between us.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you more," I kissed his hair, still just swaying back and forth, letting the facade that all was right in the world consume me.

After a few more minutes of slow dancing without music in his kitchen I kissed him and handed his mug back to him. We curled up on the couch and watched a movie.


	5. Chapter 5

Quickly, Alex and I found a pattern, he went to chemo three times a week and was letting me go back and sit with him. Sometimes he would work on a story, other times we'd play scrabble and I'd let him wipe the floor with me for an hour as he came up with words like 'quixotry' which even after a heated google search I still didn't completely understand. We'd made it through five of these treatments before waking up to find his hair on the pillow.

"So it begins," he held up a long black strand and admired it sadly.

"I still think you're beautiful, you could go totally bald and I'd still think you were beautiful."

"Well… I'll hold you to it." He got up to go vomit and take a shower, his new daily routine.

I made us coffee, trying to ignore the sounds coming from the bathroom. I hated how sick he was from all of this, the horrible drugs that they were pumping him full of. My phone ringing distracted me from my thoughts and I answered Herc's call.

"Hey, what's up?" I answered.

"Let's get together, we haven't seen Alex in weeks. We miss you guys."

I watched the coffee pot fill up, still ignoring Alex's retching, "yeah, um… let me just talk to Alex."

"Okay, man, and listen, we're up for anything, we just want to see you guys."

"Yeah…" the toilet flushing and Alex gagged loudly, the toothbrushing stage beginning, "yeah, absolutely… I'll let you know."

"And, hey," Herc started, "we love you guys."

"Love you, too, Herc."

I hung up as the shower started and poured myself a cup of coffee, making it light and sweet. My sketchbook sat at the breakfast bar where I'd left it, a half finished sketch of an old man on the train staring back at me, I sat in front of it, sipping my coffee and shaded the sketch halfheartedly.

Alex came out of the bathroom, towel around his waist, smelling like his beachy, coconut and sea salt body wash and kissed me on the cheek.

He picked up his coffee and shivered, "fuck me, it's cold in here."

"Maybe it's because you're naked," I pinched his nipple playfully and he scowled to hide a smile, "I'm gonna go take a shower."

He nodded and continued to drink his coffee. I went to the shower, still steamy from Alex's use and stripped out of my sweatpants and t-shirt and turned the water back on. When I stepped in I noticed the hair at the bottom of the tub, blocking the drain and rolled my eyes. _Dammit, Alex._ As I toed the clump away from the drain to let the water through I remembered cleaning the clump he'd let accumulate over the last week out the day before when I took my shower… but there was so much.

I cleaned it out the day before.

_I cleaned it out the day before. _

There were moments where Alex was undeniably sick, a lot of the time we tried to push through. He'd gone back to work, I'd gone back to work. We had a ritual, we were settling in to one another. When he was up for it he'd make me dinner and I'd do the dishes afterwards. We'd hold each other and make love, we'd have lazy Sunday mornings. It was perfect when it was good.

Other times, though, he was just sick. That was a ritual we'd gotten into as well, him puking every morning, the days of chemo when I'd get him home and put the space heater (or fan, depending on the day) on him and wrap him in blankets while he rested, getting up for the rest of the night only to be sick. Or when he had to step out on the fire escape because suddenly the smell of the syrup on our pancakes was too much for him, or how winded he got sometimes walking to the subway.

Now I added the clump of hair to the category of getting used to him being so sick and sat in the bottom of the tub, knees to my chest and cried. It was so hard to watch him wage this war against his own body, to see how it was betraying him, how hard he had to fight each day. I cried for the life that I wondered if we'd ever get, wondering if we'd ever really get a happily ever after. He was young and strong, and stubborn, but he was so sick. He was so sick.

There was a quiet tap on the door, "John?"

I sniffled, embarrassed to have been caught and called out to him, "yeah, sorry, what is it?"

"Can I come in?"

I stood up, feeling stupid, feeling too vulnerable like this, "yeah,"

He opened the door and peeled back the shower curtain, he was in a pair of his sweatpants, they hung baggily on his hips, and one of my shirts. Alex crouched beside the tub and pushed my mostly still dry hair back, "what's wrong, Jackie?"

I wiped my face with a wet hand, "I'm just worried about you."

He sighed and reached in the shower to turn the water off, "come on, let's get you out of here."

I let him help me out of the tub and accepted the towel he handed me. Alex pulled me by the hand to the bedroom and I knew I'd follow him anywhere. He led me to the bed and wrapped me in the blankets, just like I did to take care of him after treatment, and slipped in beside me, holding me tight.

"What's worrying you so much?" He asked, cradling me.

I didn't want to bring up his hair, "just… been a long couple of weeks."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I hate putting you through this."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be."

"I know that too, and that's why I love you. It doesn't make it easier, though."

"No," I agreed, "it doesn't."

He looked down at me in his arms and kissed me. His kisses were so warm, even as his lips got more and more chapped there was still nothing in this world that I looked forward to more than his kisses. They were everything to me. His hands were in my hair, I didn't dare put my hands in his hair, no matter how much I wanted to. I held by the hips instead.

"I love you so much, John. I am so lucky that I have you." He kissed my jaw.

"I just want to do everything I can to make you healthy again."

"You do, baby, you do." He was promising this to me as he worked down to my chest.

I pulled his shirt off and stared at the chemo port in his chest. It glared back at me, reminding me of the cancer that hung like storm clouds over our lives. I closed my eyes to focus only on how it felt to have Alex lapping at my chest, trying to pretend that there was nothing else happening in the world.

"I want you," he whispered huskily into my ear.

I shuddered, "then take me."

He grabbed the lube I'd made a fixture in our bedroom and used it to start working me open. I keened up into him and moaned at the sensation of him stretching me. I relaxed against his touch, gasping as his fingers, slick with lube spread deep within me. I looked up into his eyes, even though the deep brown of them seemed to have hazed since he'd gotten sick they were still the part of him that was the most 'Alex', his eyes and the smirk he gave when he was proud of himself at my expense were the two things that kept me feeling normal.

"Are you ready?" He whispered.

"Yes, please, 'Lex, fuck me already."

I wanted to give up control to him, to turn my brain off and just feel. He lined himself up and made that first press, the one that made me see stars every time. I groaned from low in my throat as I took him, inch by inch, getting fuller and fuller of him. He dropped his forehead to mine and spoke to me, words that only he could craft, making me believe the sincerity in them.

"John," he whispered, "I love you, I have always loved you and will continue to love you until the time when I am no longer captive to this mortal plane. You are the reason my world spins, you are the moon to my tides... you took advantage of my sensibility to steal into my affections without my consent. All these years you did it, when I first met you, you left that lecture hall with my heart in your backpack and I never want it back from you."

He knew what it did to me, his flowery language in bed, the way his soft poetry competed with the thrusting of his hips, I started to beg, but got no further than his name before his hand was on my throat, squeezing just enough to stoke the flames of my desire.

"Shh, just listen. There's nothing you need to say. Just listen and feel me, feel how much I want you, how much I love you."

I obeyed and dug my nails into his back as he rolled his hips deeper. I breathed around him choking me, it was just hard enough to make the edges of my vision dance. I gripped him by the ass and pulled his hips harder to me. Alex thrust deeper, making me cry out. I was lost to anything that wasn't him and I in this moment. He let go of my throat and kissed me, tongues moving together, tasting each others' moans. I slapped his ass, loving every curve of his body.

"I love you." It sounded like begging as the words left my mouth, and maybe I was begging, but I needed him to know how true it was, how much I did love him, how much I needed him, ideally healthy and with me for a long long time. I bucked when he hit my prostate and felt my toes start to curl. Alex hummed a sound of satisfaction and kept going, mercilessly.

"John, you're so beautiful," he swept away the hair that clung to my neck with the sheen of sweat that percolated and kissed the thin skin there.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, fingers slotting between the knobs of his spine and hummed against his touch, sighing out loud.

"Thank you for being brave enough to love me," he whispered and sniffled.

"I'll always love you," I moved my hands to his cheeks.

I pulled his mouth to mine and tasted it. We stayed close, him still moving within me, breathing each other in. My body seized as my release built inside me.

"Come for me, lover." Alex whispered.

My body obeyed like his words were an incantation and I came between us, crying out as I did. He waited for me to still and pulled out, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths.

"You didn't finish." I pointed out.

"I'm fine," he smiled, looking worn out.

"Thank you," I reached for the baby wipes on the side table and cleaned myself up, handing another to him.

His back was bruised from my nails, he had become so delicate, bruising and bleeding so easily.

I held him in our sleep, feeling guilty for hurting him.

Hercules and Lafayette came over, after one day at the studio when Hercules threatened to drop in on us after I'd skirted making plans for almost two weeks. We were sitting in the living room talking after dinner, Lafayette drinking wine, Herc and I having beers. Alex sat empty handed, one of my beanies co-opted from Hercules at some point on his head to conceal how much thinner his hair had gotten. Hercules and I were chatting about planning an opening in the studio to try and generate some additional funds while Lafayette listened to Alex talking about his latest story.

Alex looked over at me and said something to Lafayette in French. Lafayette smiled sadly and replied, I had no idea what was being said other than catching Herc's name.

"Bullshit, doll," Herc kissed Laf's stubbled cheek, "French isn't fair. Especially not when you're talking about me."

Lafayette shrugged, "not talking about you, mon cher."

I looked to Alex and he just squeezed my knee. I turned back to my conversation with Hercules, suggesting dates for a show.

They left when Alex got too tired to be entertaining. We brushed our teeth in the bathroom together and I couldn't help but notice all the blood in the sink when he spat. His gums bled at the drop of a hat now.

"Gross, right?" Alex smiled a grimace, looking embarrassed as he wiped his mouth.

"Nah, mine bleed too, because I'm shitty at oral hygiene, but still." I tried to level the playing field.

He looked at himself in the mirror and ran his fingers through his hair, strands coming out in his hands, "Laf's gonna shave my head tomorrow."

"Oh," I'd never seen Alex without his trademark long hair, knotted at the back of his head in a messy bun when he worked, flowing over his shoulders when we made love, greasy and unkempt through college.

"Yeah… Herc has clippers."

"Cool," I forced a smile, this one would be hard.

"That's… what we were talking about earlier. I didn't want to just totally bring the mood down."

"It's okay to be real, honey. You don't bring the mood down. We all love you."

I held him when we got into bed, nuzzling into what hair he did have, preparing myself to see him without it.

Hercules talked to me about it at the studio the next day.

"So the hair's going, huh?"

"Guess so," I shrugged, "there hasn't been much of it for a while, so I guess it'll… look better… I don't know, it's always been long."

Herc rummaged through his satchel and handed me a few beanies, "knit these for him last night. It's cold as shit out there."

"Thanks, Herc."

I got to work on a commission and filled the rest of my day with perfecting a bougie painting of a fluffy white dog for his wealthy owners. Eventually I cleaned my brushes and made myself go home to Alex, I'd put it off, not wanting to see him like that until I had to.

Hercules was right, it was getting colder out, I zipped up my coat as I walked back to Alex's, basically ours now, apartment. He was wearing the same burgundy beanie as yesterday, nothing sticking out of it this time. His face was bare as well, I hadn't seen him without his goatee since we graduated from college.

"Hi, babe," I kissed him, longing for the tickle of his beard.

"Hey. Wanna see?"

"Let's see it, egghead," I teased him, trying to be playful.

Alex pulled the beanie off and revealed his bald head. He looked sicker. So much sicker, like cancer patient sick. He was a cancer patient, I reminded myself. In some ways it was better than the falling out hair look that he'd been rocking, but this commitment was so final.

"What do you think?"

"You've got a nice round head, that's good, Symmetrical."

He put the beanie back on, "I look fucking stupid."

"I still love you…" I kissed him, "but the beanie's a good move. Speaking of, Herc made these for you."

"He's such a good dude." Alex smiled.

"Yeah, he is. You feeling alright?"

"Kind of a morale hit to see this whole… thing." He gestured to himself.

"Yeah… It is." I agreed, chewing the inside of my cheek.

"But whatever, it's just hair. It'll grow back, probably curly from what I've read, so you'll have mad competition." He tugged on my ponytail.

"Curly?"

"They call it 'chemo curls' something about the drugs makes your hair come in curly… so that's a thing."

"Weird. I mean, I'm into it, but that's a weird reaction."

"I think I'm gonna go to bed."

"It's like seven, don't you want me to fix you dinner?"

"Nah, I'm pretty beat… and not really hungry."

"You have treatment tomorrow." I reminded him.

"I'll eat breakfast. Love you."

I kissed him, "love you, too."

Deciding not to make a whole production of dinner, I poured myself a bowl of cereal and ate it at the breakfast bar, pulling out my phone to text Hercules.

**So this is fuckin weird.**

He texted me back almost immediately.

**That's pretty much what Laf said. **

I took another bite of cereal and leaned on the heel of my hand.

**Sucks.**

**Yup. Sorry, Jack. You've got this, buddy. **

Technically, I knew he was right, I had this, sure I had this. That didn't make it easier, though. I watched stupid youtube videos on my phone for a while, not ready to go to bed, feeling angry with Alex because he was a person, and you could be mad at people. Cancer wasn't a person, it didn't have feelings, it was harder to be mad at something so intangible. It took a few hours, but I realized how stupid it was to be mad at Alex when I knew that he was hurting too. His identity had been augmented today and I was being a bitch about it. I put my bowl in the dishwasher and went to bed, finding him tucked into a ball, snoring softly. He curled into my arms right away, gravitating to me in his sleep. I kissed his head, trying to make myself get used to how the fuzzy baldness felt.

He had a harder time than usual at chemo, head in his hand for half of it, puking for the other half. I rubbed his back and got him ice chips, trying to be there for him since there wasn't much else that I could do.

"Talk," he whimpered, "talk to me."

"Um… okay… Remember that time when we broke our way onto the rooftop of our dorm building and emptied a bottle of whiskey in our junior year? That was such a fun night. We were so fucking young and dumb, but that's one of my favourite memories. You looked so beautiful out there, the lights of the city highlighting your face. I wanted so badly to kiss you up there. God you were so gorgeous. I'll never forget it, we sat up there and talked about what we wanted to do. You know what? We did it, too. We talked about how you'd be a journalist and I was so sure that I could actually make money with my art. Look at us, Alex, we're doing it."

He took a deep breath, "I remember that night."

The deep breaths weren't enough to get him through and he retched into the pink kidney pan next to him, his stomach was empty of everything but acid and he dry heaved in a painful looking display.

"There you go, okay, honey. It's okay." I swallowed against my sympathetic gag reflex which had deadened nearly completely since he'd gotten sick. Today was worse than usual, though.

The nurse came and unhooked the tubes from his port and sent us on our way. We took a cab home and he lie against me.

"I gotta… sleep." He stumbled into the apartment and went to the bedroom.

That was the last that I'd hear from him for the day. He slept as the sun bathed long shadows over the walls and as the city sounds switched from daytime bustle to evening commotion.

I cleaned up the apartment, methodically washing dishes, happy for the ritual of it, and folded his laundry. After I was satisfied with the apartment I worked on a sketch of him from memory during our college days and focused on his hair, the way his hairline perfectly framed his face. He was so beautiful, he still was, but there was an innocence that he'd lost in the last few months, his illness jading him. I'd have said he already was jaded, even in college, but that was when this was unimaginable. I worked on the sketch some more, trying to remember all of the details of what he looked like when he was just the beautiful boy in my class and materialize those features on the page.

I finally tired myself out and went to bed, not even bothering with dinner for myself. I noticed myself losing weight along with Alex, but I still fit my clothes. I still looked like me.

Alex managed some toast in the morning and we went back to the patterns that we'd set. He felt a little better and we parted ways to go to work. I threw myself at an acrylic pour for a hospital across town and wondered who would look at it. If it would be a boyfriend waiting to hear how much his life would change when his boyfriend woke up from surgery.

"How's it going, buddy?" Hercules asked me.

"Oh… you know… it's going." I stirred my pouring medium into the cup of paint.

"Yeah? You sure? You've been off lately."

"Just having a shitty time, nothing to do… no way out but through and all that shit."

"Yeah… hey, some, some good news…" he sounded nervous to tell me and I hated that I'd become so myopic, it wasn't on purpose, I didn't mean to make everything about me… about Alex.

"What's that?" I stopped what I was doing to give him my full attention.

"Boutique in Brooklyn picked up my line." He grinned.

"No shit! Really? Herc! That's so dope. I mean I'm kind of disgusted by the notion of boutiques in Brooklyn, but that's so fucking cool. I'm so proud of you, man. You've worked so hard on this."

"I've worked my fucking ass off, but it looks like it's finally paying off."

"Damn straight, it is. First of many."

"Here's hoping, then maybe I can stop looking at wedding dresses all day. All the tiny beads are making me go blind."

I sure hope so."

"But, hey, Laf and I are gonna go celebrate tonight. You guys are of course invited."

"I'll see if Alex is up for it."

"Absolutely. And, hey, no pressure either, it's not a thing. Just lowkey, dinner and drinks."

"Sounds good."

I finished the pour and went home, Alex was still at work. It was rare for him to work a full day anymore so I counted it as a good sign, but it also made it less likely that he would be up for going out. When he finally did get home he looked tired.

"Hey, baby, how was your day?" He asked, setting his stuff down and unzipping his coat.

"It was great. Herc's line got into a boutique."

"That's so awesome!" Alex grinned with pride.

"Yeah, hey, him and Laf are going out for dinner and drinks. You up for joining?"

Alex nodded thoughtfully, "for a while, yeah."

"Great, well let's get going if you're sure you're down."

We met up with our friends and had dinner. I was impressed to see Alex actually eating. That was a good sign, we were off to a good start. We congratulated him and enjoyed the meal at a place a little fancier than I tended to believe in.

After dinner we went out to a bar and I bought Hercules a shot, he returned the favour, buying a round. Alex sipped juice. As the evening went on, I got drunker. Alex looked more and more fatigued.

"I think we're gonna head out. So proud of you, man." I told Hercules, hugging him.

"Hey, thanks so much for coming out tonight."

"Nowhere else I'd be."

I hugged Lafayette while Hercules said goodbye to Alex and we left. I took Alex's hand and we hailed a cab.

"Sorry for bitching out. Just been a long day." Alex leaned on my shoulder when we got in the cab.

"No problem, honey. I'm just glad you were up for it at all."

"It was important to show up for him. They've done so much for us."

"So much." I agreed, feeling the drinks more than I realized.

We rode home quietly, I was enjoying my buzz and trying to stay in the 'fun buzz' category while avoiding the 'nauseous buzz' side. I got the door for Alex when we got home. I raided the fridge, finding cold, leftover pizza from a few days ago.

"I'm drunk," I giggled as I stumbled, munching at the pizza.

"Yeah," Alex laughed.

"So are you this dizzy all the time?"

"More or less, yeah."

"Fuck, babe. How do you do it?"

"No other choice."

"Yeah, no other choice. That's it, right? I mean, there's no way out but through."

"Yeah," he agreed.

He took off his beanie, revealing the downy peach fuzz trying to grow back on his scalp. I'd almost forgotten about the baldness under the beanie and tried not to look too shocked when I saw it.

"Come on, Jackie, let's get you in bed before you decide that pizza wasn't your best idea."

"What? It was so my best idea."

He laughed, "sure it was."

That was the last fun night we'd have. He got even thinner, even sicker in the following weeks. His skin hung emptily off his bones. His cheeks were hollow and his eyes bulged from their bony sockets.


	6. Chapter 6

Alex was given FMLA time off of work but still wrote in bed. He was in bed most of the time, napping every few hours, he didn't seem like himself anymore, his spark diminishing.

This evening I was sitting in bed with him, propped up against the headboard, reading listicles on my phone. I'd had a harder day than usual, losing a client when they heard my price after I'd spent time on concept sketches and buttering them up. I had a shortness about me. Alex seemed down but wouldn't really talk about it.

"Whatcha looking at?" Alex asked trying to bridge the gap over the static hanging in the air between up.

"Must see travel destinations apparently. I don't know how 'must see' they are."

"Hmm, sounds cool. Anywhere in particular?"

"Nah, there's a couple cool places, but it's not like we're going anywhere soon."

"Yeah, I guess that's probably true." He sounded defeated. I was exhausted with hearing that in his voice so often lately.

I kept reading through reasons to go to Bora Bora.

"You could go by yourself, or I'm sure Laf would be down, or Herc." Alex volunteered.

"I can't leave you. What if something happened?"

"I guess… yeah… I'm probably not doing too hot right now, huh?"

"Yeah," I tried to chuckle but couldn't find the humour, he looked like shit, he was so sick, the chemo had made him a brittle exoskeleton, "I thought you'd be better by now."

I sounded more bitter than I'd intended, but it was already said.

"Sorry I'm not dying quick enough for you." He pursed his lips.

"What did you just say?" I dropped my phone and looked at him.

"Shit or get off the pot, right? I'm not doing you any good like this. Get busy living or get busy dying."

"Alex." My voice was a warning.

"No, I'm just saying, fuck, look at me. I'm not getting better anytime soon. Just gonna keep sucking your life away."

"Alex, I didn't mean anything."

"Sorry for inconveniencing you with my extended death rattle."

"'Lex, please stop." I was pleading.

"No, I see all the shit I hold you back from. All the things you miss out on. I see what a goddamned burden I am, and for what? A better eulogy? That I was a fighter? We both know where this is headed. You should just get out while you can, go to Aruba or something."

"Alex, stop! Why are you saying this shit? I've done nothing but stick by you."

"You shouldn't have to."

"I love you, I'll always stick by you,"

"At least you'll get a front row seat."

"Alexander, stop, for chrissakes. It's not like this is the easiest thing I've ever done, but I love you. I'm with you." I begged.

"I'm getting sicker, John. I'm disgusting. I've lost like forty pounds, I'm bald. You should go. It's a good thing your lease isn't up yet."

"What? Where is this even coming from?"

"Just go." He looked away from me.

"No! Alex, this doesn't even make sense. I don't know what pity party you're having but it's bullshit. Yeah, it's hard on me and it's hard that when I have a bad day I don't get the benefit of looking sick. I don't get the free pass of looking frail like you do, but it's fucking hard to watch this happen and to try and do everything right for you, but I am trying."

"I'm sorry you got a chore instead of a boyfriend."

"Fuck, Alex. Cut the shit."

I tried to hold him but he pushed me away and a sob ripped out of him, "please just go."

"You really want me to go?" I felt my eyebrows knit together.

He started to say something but just looked away.

"Fine. Fine, deny me of seeing this thing through. I have dreams for us, Alex. I want us to go to Iceland and see the northern lights or sit on the beaches of Cuba, I just always thought it would be you dying that would stop that from happening, not you being a pussy. You always told me everyone you ever loved left you. Did they? Or did you just push them away?"

"Get out." He cried into his bony hands.

"Okay," I cried, hot, hateful tears, "but I still fucking love you."

I raced out of his building and stomped down the street toward my apartment. It started to snow.

"Fuck you, snow. Stupid romantic, Christmassy snow. Bullshit."

My apartment was cold and mostly empty. I turned up the thermostat which had been set incredibly low since I'd been staying with Alex. This was ridiculous. He was bullshit. I loved him so much, always would. He was scared. He was hurting. My pride and my pain interfered with me thinking clearly and I stomped around the apartment until I fell in a heap onto my bed.

I could feel my heart splitting in half and screamed into my pillow. He was scared, I was scared, but we'd turned on each other, and now instead of being scared together we were both alone and pissed off. I pulled out my phone and texted him.

**I love you. I'm sorry. **

No reply came. I stared at pictures we'd taken. The ones since we'd gotten together stung the most, us happy in each others' arms, kissing, snuggled up to one another. I sobbed and looked at the photos, it broke my fucking heart. Knowing he was alone broke my fucking heart. I didn't sleep, just dozed in a broken hearted twilight for hours, waiting for the sun to come up, holding myself as I wept. I had to make things right. If he did… if he did die, we had to be there for each other, I had to be the one holding him.

In the morning I went aimlessly to my studio and painted for myself, abandoning my commissions. I threw paint at the canvas, hurtling it sloppily, running my hands over it, cold and wet, moving it on the stretched surface while I sobbed myself empty. I was angry. Alex was alone, he shouldn't have been alone, we should have woken up together. I should have kissed him in bed this morning and cradled his bald head before I got up. None of this was right. I'd thought things were going wrong before, but this was a new low.

"John, what are you working on?" Hercules opened the garage door and walked into the studio, concern in his voice.

I stared at my paint covered hands, "we broke up."

"I'm sorry, the fuck? You did what now?"

"I said something stupid and Alex told me to get out." My chin trembled, I hadn't had to say it out loud and confront it yet.

"John…" Hercules sighed, "what happened?"

I scraped the paint off of my hands and went to the paint sink to wash them, relaying the story to Hercules. It was awful, I'd never even seen it coming until it knocked the wind out of me. Things were good, we were good, we were finally happy. It was hard, but it was good, we were together like we were supposed to be. It didn't make sense how this had happened. We were good.

Herc, my stoic friend, wiped a tear away briskly, "you have to get him back. He's pushing you away because he's scared."

"I know this. I just don't know how to go about it."

"How to get Alex back…" Hercules paced, "flowers won't do it. No you don't want to show up to Alex's with flowers… just… honestly just go to him and be real, just go talk to him."

"Now?"

"Give him a few more hours to cool off. He's probably going to have a whole monologue of mean shit to say, but don't take it personal… that's just Alex."

"I know." I recalled all of the exes we'd slandered, employing Alex's sharp tongue, I stiffened at the thought of what he might say to me and wanted to chicken out altogether, but he needed me. Alex needed me to be there for him, not bail on him now.

"You'll get him back. You guys were made for each other, you both realize that you wasted enough time as it is."

"I think the hardest part for me is just that no one sees that I'm having a hard time, y'know? Like people are generally nice to him because he looks like shit, they can tell right away what's wrong with him, little old ladies smile at him and people let him go ahead of them in line, but no one sees that I'm having a hard fucking time because I'm healthy, so the same people that are nice to him are the ones shoulder checking me. I don't get to have a hard time, I don't get to have a bad day because I'm not sick. I'm not saying that I don't think I'm lucky to be healthy, and God, I'd take his cancer if I could, but Jesus Christ, it's so hard to have to be strong all the time. I'm so tired."

Hercules let me talk and cry and just held me. I was grateful that I could be vulnerable without feeling guilty (mostly), with him. He just played with my curls and listened.

"I think you guys are gonna figure this out. You have to. I mean you're the perfect couple, it's hard sometimes and God knows you two have it harder. But you'll figure this out, John."

"Please tell me that you and Laf have had shitty times?"

"We have, everyone does."

"Anything like this?"

Hercules shook his head, "can't say so, Jack, but your situation's unique as hell."

The rest of the day saw me sitting in Herc's room of the studio and watching him sew, not getting any of my own work done, he tried to occupy my mind and keep my thoughts moving, but they always went back to Alex.

I stared at the text I'd sent him… he'd seen it. He'd seen it and ignored me. I wondered what was going on in his mind. Why he was pushing me away, what darkness was harbouring there. The emptiness that had taken root in the pit of my stomach found room to grow and blossom there, it filled me like poison, encased me in tar. I couldn't think straight, couldn't feel.

Hercules and I left at the same time, him locking up the garage door behind us.

"Hey," he hugged me, "it's gonna be okay, go get your man."

I didn't believe him. I didn't think that it would ever truly be okay. I hoped things weren't permanently damaged. Maybe they were… or maybe Alex and I could realize that we both needed each other too much to keep being petty. Calling him seemed like the hardest thing in the world, but I made myself hit the green call button and held my phone to my ear, it rang once and went straight to voicemail. That wasn't a reaffirming sign. He didn't want to talk to me. He was still pissed off. He was probably alone in his apartment hurtling beautifully crafted vitriol at an imaginary me.

It didn't seem like showing up at his apartment would help anything so I went back to my own and looked in the closet wanting to change. All of my winter clothes were at Alex's except for an old ratty pair of jeans I'd been meaning to throw away. I at least needed my stuff. My stomach ached and I trembled with anxiety over how powerless I felt and I thought about Alex, probably feeling just as powerless, but feeling like shit on top of it. The guilt I felt was the worst part. I hadn't meant to be bitchy.

I wanted to go to him. I had to go to him, but I was too afraid. All day when I'd thought about how our interaction would go, I'd been envisioning a healthy, complete Alex. One from only a few months ago. Long hair pulled back, mussed up from his agitation. Him pacing as we talked, like a tightly wound spring, ready to release and explode at any moment, his vitality, his energy. That's how it always looked when we fought. We'd fought over stupid stuff, roommate stuff. Nothing that seemed to matter in the slightest now. Who'd drank the last of the milk. Who used whose razor. In the face of what we were up against none of it mattered in the slightest.

That wouldn't be the Alex I was met with, though. The Alex I would be met with would be hollow and sick, he would argue with me from his bed, not running his fingers through his hair with annoyance at me, but staring at me with his dark hazy eyes, adjusting his beanie, or maybe just leaving me to confront the blatant illness in his bald head.

The thought of that sight was worse than anything else somehow. I could deal with the rest, I could tolerate how sick he was if I could imagine him in his prime. Being confronted by him in that state, that was the part that reduced me to nothing, and so I let myself be scared and lie in the dark on my bed in the clothing I'd been wearing since yesterday. I let myself puss out and stay miserable and alone because between him ignoring me and having to fight with his broken visage, being ignored hurt less.

I listened to the city and lost myself in the trance of it, horns blaring, music spilling from cars, sirens. The sounds transported me to another world. Alex and I, old, healthy, drinking lemonade on the stoop of a brownstone. Alex and I on a beach, his long hair salt soaked, putting flowers behind my ear. Alex and I bound to each other in rapturous lovemaking.

This was the life I was fighting for, that he was beating cancer for. This was the life just on the other side of remission. We just had to make it that much longer. We just had to get him over this hurdle. He only had one more week of chemo, then he'd get another scan, make sure that the cancer was gone, blood tests every few months. We were far from out of the woods, but the clearing was up ahead. We could get there.

But what if he still didn't want me? What if I'd watched all of this happen and stuck by his side just to never get to see our happy ending. What if I'd been right all along that dating ruins friendships. As much as I wanted to feel our naked bodies tucked against one another while we slept, I ached at the thought of not hearing my best friend's laugh, at the loss of stupid inside jokes that could be triggered with just a facial expression.

If he didn't want me, hated me, what then? It was unfathomable to think about picking up the pieces after that. Those were the thoughts that drained the colour from my world, leaving me in vacant shades of grey. That world couldn't be realized. That wasn't a world to get out of bed for. But maybe it was the real world. Maybe he wouldn't ever want me back and I'd have to figure out how to pretend I was okay, how to get up and make art worth looking at.

Somewhere, deep down, I'd known this would happen. That was what kept me silent for so long, but Alex had to go and ruin it by professing his love for me. I'd kept my mouth shut because I knew better. I knew what would happen, but that didn't stop him. Nothing stopped Alex. Because of that I'd lost my lover and my friend.

I looked at the pictures of us on my phone again and thought about the memories that they contained. We had lived a whole life together already, but we'd spent so much of it hiding from each other. I was so tired of hiding, I was so tired of running from each other. If we were going to get through this, if he was going to beat it, no more running, no more hiding, we'd do it together.

I got off my bed, wiped the tear tracks from my eyes and huffed out of my apartment all the way to his, chest inflated by determined, imaginary bravado.

When I reached his door, I stood on the other side of it, fist hovering over the wood. Terrified. I rapped my knuckles on the door and waited for him to answer the door and then berate me. We'd be able to smooth things over, though. That was my hope. That was all I needed in the world. Just to smooth things over with him. Get to enjoy all the time he had left at his side.

"Go away, John!" He shouted through the door.

Going away wasn't an option. Him curling up, waiting to die alone like a dog wasn't an option. That wasn't what we were doing here. I refused to let things end like this. Neither of us were even mad at each other. We were exhausted and overwhelmed and taking it out on the closest thing with a pulse. I fumbled with my keys and unlocked the door and opened it. The chain caught the door a few inches open and held it there. He'd locked the chain. He knew I'd come, use my key and try to talk to him and locked the chain so I couldn't get in. I sighed in defeat.

"Alex, please baby, baby, please, please. Let me in. I want to talk to you."

"Go away, John, please." His voice cracked as he pleaded for me to go away.

"No, 'Lex. I need to talk to you."

"No you don't. I don't want to talk to you, John." I couldn't see him, but the door shut in my face.

"I'll be here when you do." I slid down the wall and put my head in my hands, ready to wait as long as I needed to.

I heard him sigh on the other side, the chain slide free and the door opened, "get in here."

I scrambled inside before he could change his mind and shut me out again. I wanted to hug him, to hold him close and weep into his neck and make a million promises, but I held myself back, treading lightly, not wanting to scare the feral, wounded animal that stood before me. I sat on the couch and watched him as he wiped his face.

"I… am having a really hard time." He admitted.

"I know you are-"

"Just listen." He clenched his hands.

I nodded and let him go on, he paced slowly as he talked. A shadow of the spitfire he was, but it soothed me to see him pacing.

"I'm having a really hard time right now because I don't like feeling like a burden. I've worked my ass off since I was an orphaned kid on a shitty island. I worked my ass off to get to the states. I worked my ass off to get through college. I worked my ass off to become the journalist I am today. I relied on myself. I only had myself to count on for so long. I don't like feeling like a burden. I hate the pity I see on people's faces. You talked about how hard it is not being the sick one. You can take my cancer off, though, John. You can go through the goddamned grocery store without, tiny, frail old women looking at you with pity in their eyes. You get to be normal sometimes. Everyone who sees me sees my cancer first. I'm losing stories because my boss isn't sure I'll even be alive to tell them."

"I'm sorry… I didn't think-"

"John! Just… please let me talk," his voice cracked again as tears threatened to spill, "I love you more than I've ever loved anyone and so as hard as it is to feel like a burden to the world when I can't walk at a New York pace, or people feel sorry for me and let me go in front of them, it's so much harder to feel like a burden to you. You're young and so goddamn beautiful that I forget how to breathe when I look at you sometimes and you're stuck with me. I hate seeing you stuck with me. I want so much better for you than this."

"But… it's what I want, Alex."

"I feel really sick. I… thought for sure I was going to beat this… but now I'm not sure and I just don't want you to have to see that. I've imagined death so much it feels more like a memory… and, and is this how you'll remember me? What if this disease is my legacy? I'm running out of time, John." He dissolved into tears and I jumped up to hold him.

He felt like home, his hands tucked up against my chest, I kissed his naked head and whispered comfort to him.

"You're not a burden, Alex. And… if something happened this isn't how I'd remember you. I'd remember you that first time we ever kissed, do you remember that night, Alex?"

"The night after finals?" He did remember.

"Yup, we toasted to our freedom after making it through the hardest semester and declared it a night worth telling stories about later since we were all certain that we would flunk out of school. We made it though. Hercules and Laf couldn't keep their hands off each other and we went back to our place and I kissed you."

"I should have said something then." He shook his head.

"But it's okay that you didn't. I'm just telling you, this cancer shit? This isn't your legacy, it isn't what I see when I think of you. Alex, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I snapped at you, I'm sorry that things fucking suck right now. I love you. I love you so much. I just want to be with you. Will you let me come home?"

He bit his lip, they were so cracked from the chemo, "please come home, John. I'm sorry too, I'm just scared and ashamed."

"Don't be. I still think you're beautiful."

He laughed dryly, "how?"

"Because I know you, because I see you. Now let's go to bed, I'm gonna hold you and never let you go."

"I'd like that," he leaned on me as we walked down the hall.


	7. Chapter 7

**Epilogue**

I stretched and blinked in the unfamiliar bed, and found that I was alone. That didn't surprise me, though. I took a few more minutes to wake up before letting my feet hit the floor, wondering what the day ahead had in store.

The swollen wood panels of the floor creaked where I stepped on them. I slipped a pair of thin pants on and left the bedroom. The small, open air living space of the Airbnb smelled like coffee and I poured myself a cup, noting how much of the pot was already gone and smiling at the pill bottles lined up in precise fashion next to the coffee maker. Alex was outside in the hammock, the vision of tranquility, reading an obnoxiously thick, boring looking biography, scratching his stubbly goatee. I sipped my coffee and went to him after a few more minutes of just soaking him in.

"Hi, honey." I kissed his cheek and balanced my coffee as I got into the hammock beside him.

"Good morning, love." He leaned his head on my shoulder and ran his finger over the trail of hair below my belly button absentmindedly as he read.

Alex resumed his reading and I stared out at the water, it was tranquil, the surf was calm, pure blue and barely distinguishable from the horizon line. I ran my fingers through Alex's short hair. It was cute short, never falling in his eyes, framing his face, I'd grown to like it even though I was sure he'd grow it out long. The texture was more coarse than it had been, but I still loved it. It made him look complete. My hand trailed down to finger his scars, the delicate line across his throat where they'd taken out his thyroid and lymph node, and the thicker, harder one on his chest where the chemo port had been.

I celebrated the day that they told us that the chemo port could come out. That was remission day, the doctor had wanted to leave the port in until we were sure that it was over, that the worst was behind us and that we wouldn't need it any longer. That was a good day, Herc and Laf took us out to dinner to celebrate, Alex actually ate that night. It was the start of the next chapter, this new, good chapter where things were good and he was whole again.

We'd been given the all clear back in March and made our plans to come down to the Dominican Republic. Those plans we broadcasted, I looked at the way his golden wedding band glinted in the sun, getting married the day before we left, we had kept secret. I finished my coffee and set the mug in the sand. Alex's skin was sticky from his morning swim, it made us stick to one another. I hitched my leg over his thigh and breathed him in, briney, musky, mine.

I watched the rise and fall of his belly as he breathed, his hip bones just visible above his board shorts, his belly soft again. Alex's appetite came back pretty quickly after the chemo and he didn't look gaunt anymore, cheeks filled out, eyes not so sunken. He looked healthy. Looked like himself, the way he'd always looked. It was taking longer, but his stamina was coming back, he slept less, worked later. Things were going back to normal.

Alex wiggled his toes against my foot just to let me know he loved me, was thinking about me and turned the page in the dense tome he was reading. I dozed, listening to his heartbeat, grateful for it. It was my favourite sound in the world, strong and steady, confident. I listened to it every night as I fell asleep. I'd gone from listening to make sure it was still there to listening to it as a lullaby.

It was hard to believe just how bad things had gotten last year. Looking at him now I couldn't believe he was so sick. He got so frail, like a china doll, I'd been scared to break him. I'd seen more of his skeleton than I ever wanted to and it still haunted my dreams sometimes, him getting so skinny that he'd disappear. I'd wake up next to him though and feel the soft curves of his arms and relax. We were both still getting through the trauma of what we'd been through. He struggled with guilt, I struggled with it too, but we loved each other, that was the most important part.

"Jackie," he woke me up, it was hot, I was disoriented, not sure of where we were at first, wondering if this was just a dream and we were really at the hospital.

"Yeah?"

"Let's go for a swim, baby, it's hella hot."

I took my mug inside and changed into my boardshorts. Our little beach shack was in seclusion, we'd taken a tiny boat to get here and the only vehicles we heard were motorbikes. Other than that it was just the waves lapping the shore and our blissful cries in the night. I met Alex in the water and we splashed and played in the low tide. I went to him and wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him, he was salty and sweet and perfectly Alex.

We sat at the edge of the water and talked once he'd gotten tired in the water, still not quite one hundred percent on endurance. We made each other laugh at stupid, absurd stories. I was so lucky to be with my best friend. There was no one better suited to share a life with. We made it work, proving me wrong about my theory that friends dating ends in catastrophe, sometimes it ends in marriage and sitting on the beach, cancer remission, and happily ever afters.

This was the start of the rest of our lives. Alex was healthy, he took hormones and immune supports and probably would for a very long time, but all I'd heard when the doctor told us that was that he'd have a very long time. We would get to grow old together. We would get to have dreams come true.

Our skin grew darker in the day's sun and we started a small bonfire on the beach to warm ourselves in the cool night air and cook the fish Alex caught during the day. I watched him stare at the fire after we ate and asked what the cogs in his mind were churning out.

"Just thinking about life, I suppose. You, mostly. How grateful I am. Thinking about what really matters."

"And what is it that really matters?"

"Just… just being happy. Leaving behind a story worth telling. Being loved. That's it, that's the near death secrets to the universe."

I thought about it for a while and leaned over to kiss him, "good job not dying."

"Y'know… I do what I can."

"So what's the next adventure, babe?" I asked him, still watching what the amber flames did to his eyes.

"I don't know, enjoy married life. Come home to my best friend every night. Maybe we get a dog or something."

"Did you ever think we'd get here?"

"Not in a million years." He trailed his finger over the freckles on the bridge of my nose, the time in the sun making them brighter, making new ones appear.

"We did though."

"We did."


End file.
